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ADMIME  tlOLlGNY 


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RISE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS. 


Rev.   WM.   M.   BLACKBURN, 

PROPEBSOR    of    llIBLICAL   AND    KCCLESIASTICAI.     HiSTORT     IN   THE    THEOLOGICAL    SEMINARY 

OF  THE  North-west, 

AND   At'THOR  OF 

"William  Farel,"  "Ulrich  Zwinoli,"  "  Vousa  Calvin   in  Paris,"  &c. 


Vol.  I. 


-PT 


r 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PRESBYTERIAN   BOAED  OF  PURLIC.\TION, 


821   CHESTNUT   STREET. 


Eutered  according  to  Act  of  CongresB,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

THE   TRUSTEES   OF   THE 

PRESBYTERIAN  BOARD  OF  PUBLICATION, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Conrt  of  the  United  States  for  the  Eastern 

District  of  Pennsylvania. 


Westcott  t  Thoksoit, 

&TEREOTyPEBJB,    PKILADA. 


EX 

1)2 

C6l352> 
V.j 

CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

A    RISING    GENERATION. 


PAQB 


The  Reform  needs  two  New  Elements — The  Colignys  and  Mont- 
raorencies — Marot  and  the  Psalms — The  Guises — A  Suppressed 
Calvinism 13 

CHAPTER   II. 

PROMOTIONS    AND    PROJECTS. 

A  Change  on  the  Throne — Coligny's  new  Military  Code — Andelot 
in  Prison;  reads  Calvin's  Writings — When  free  avows  the 
Reform 46 

CHAPTER   III. 

FROM    CAMP    TO    PRISON. 

St.   Quentin   Lost,   but    France    Saved — Coligny's    Captivity  one 

Means  of  his  Conversion 68 

CHAPTER   IV. 

A    BOLDER    PROTESTANTISM. 

Its  Organization — First  Reformed  Church  in  Paris — Pastor  de 
Launay — Riots — Great  Psalm-singing — Andelot  Arrested  for 
his  Faith 85 


V>/^/3  ^ 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    V. 

COURAGE    IN    HIOH    PLACES. 

PAOS 

Coligny  and  Calvin — Charlotte  Laval — Model  of  Household  Wor- 
ship— Chandieu — First  National  Synod — A  Fierce  Parliament 
— Du  Bourg  in  Prison 110 

\  CHAPTER   Vr. 

THE    GUISES    IN    POWER. 

William  of  Orange  Hears  of  a  Plot — The  Political  and  the  Religious 

Protestants — Du  Bourg  Executed— Persecutions 133 

CHAPTER   VII. 

A    CHIEFTAIN    WANTED. 

Prince  of  Conde — His  Party  hold  Assemblies — Coligny  Opposes 
War — Guisean  Tyranny — The  Conspiracy  of  Amboise — Noble 
Victims — The  Reform  in  Peril 154 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE    TWO    GREAT    PARTIES. 

The  Name  Huguenot — Chancellor  de  I'Hopital — Coligny's  Petition 
for  the  Normans — Conde  Entrapped — A  King  Dies — The  Guises 
Fall 184 

CHAPTER    IX. 

A  CONGRESS    AND    A    COLLOQUY. 

The  one  at  Orleans;  the  other  at  Poissy — The  Triumvirate — Theo- 
dore Beza — Peter  Ramus 222 

CHAPTER    X. 

THE    WILES    OF    THE    COURT. 

Character  and  Number  of  the  Reformed — Great  Meetings — Riots — 

Jesuits — Defection  of  Antony  of  Navarre — Massacre  of  Vassy.  257 


CONTENTS.  0 

CHAPTER   XI. 

THE    UPRISING    OF    THE    HlGUEyOTS. 

PAOE 

The    Period  of  Resistance    Opens — Coligny    Aroused — First   Civil 

War — Many  Towns  held  by  tiie  Huguenots — Parleys — Violence  286 

CHAPTER   XII. 

THUOIGH    WAR    TO    PEATE. 

Siege  of  Rouen — Battle  of  Dreux — Papal  Te  Deums — The  Admiral's 
March  to  Havre — Poltrot  Assassinates  Guise — Was  Coligny  in 
the  Plot? — His  Exoneration — Peace  through  Kingcraft 324 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

VNDER    A    CLOUD. 

Three  Movements:  one  to  Ruin  Coligny,  another  to  Tempt  Cond4, 
and  a  third  to  Recover  Havre— Coligny  at  Home — Protestant 

Preaching  Suppressed  at  Court — Madame  Reu^e 356 

1* 


PREFACE. 


This  work  is  something  more  tlian  a  biography :  the  reader 
may  find  it  nothing  less  than  a  history.  It  may  be  both,  and  still 
preserve  the  unity  of  design  and  of  method.  (^  In  general,  the 
acts  of  a  people  are  but  the  deeds  of  its  representative  men. 
This  is  especially  true  of  the  Huguenots  during  the  periods 
herein  treated.  Amid  the  distractions  of  i)ersecution  and  war 
they  did  not — they  could  not — act  so  much  in  a  body,  or  as  a  Re- 
formed ('hurch,  as  through  their  leaders.  Their  representatives 
made  for  them  their  history.  To  form  a  correct  idea  of  that  pe- 
culiar people,  to  whom  a  distinctive  character  has  always  been 
attributed,  it  is  not  necessary  to  portray  the  life  of  everj'  earnest 
actor  nor  the  development  of  every  particular  Church.  This 
would  give  us  too  much  sameness.  So  of  the  various  persecu- 
tions :  there  is  a  horrible  monotony  of  details  in  them  all.  The 
trial  and  execution  of  one  martyr  are  quite  like  those  of  another; 
therefore  martyrologies  grow  tedious.  The  butchery  in  one  vil- 
lage is  frightfully  similar  to  that  in  another.  Hence  the  history 
must  be  eclectic.  It  may  be  seen  in  the  record  of  a  few  lives,  a 
few  churches,  a  few  persecutions.  Even  their  enemies  act  mo- 
notonously ;  their  frequent  edicts  run  in  almost  the  same  mould  ; 
they  constantly  repeat  their  deeds  of  violence.  jMy  aim  has 
been  to  select  what  is  representative,  or  give  fair  specimens  of 
life  and  endurance. 

\  One  man  occupies  the  central  position.     Upon  Admiral  Colig- 
iiy'almost  the  entire  history  hangs.    '  He  is  a  sort  of  personifi- 


8  PREFA(E. 

cation  of  Huguenotisni,  wliicli,  :it  oik;  time,  was  in  danger  of 
being  a  Protestant  chivalry — a  religion  in  the  hands  of  warrior?.,' 
Himself  a  nobleman,  he  greatly  helped  to  turn  it  from  the  path 
of  the  whirlwind.  Yet  the  Reform  was  in  need  of  noble  patron- 
age, and  he  and  his  brothers  represented  the  young  nobility  which 
was  led  out  of  moderate  Romanism  into  an  earnest  Protestant- 
ism. They  were  the  first  powerful  chiefs  to  adopt  the  Reform. 
They  set  the  example  to  hundreds  of  others.  Coligny  is  the  em- 
inent lay  chieftain  of  the  trulj*  religious  Huguenots.  He  is  inti- 
mately allied  to  the  Prince  of  Conde  and  the  political  Hugue- 
nots. ( This  important  distinction  has  often  been  too  much  over- 
looked. )  He  holds  a  high  place  in  the  state,  in  the  Reformed 
Church  and  in  the  Huguenot  army.  He  links  the  Protestants 
to  the  king  and  the  court.  '  There  are  certain  foreign  influences 
which  greatly  affect  his  people,  and  to  these  I  have  given  no  more 
than  due  attention  ;  in  these  he  is  the  conspicuous  leader  against 
whom  the  pope  and  Philip  II.  take  their  deadly  aim  when  they 
dictate  extermination;  He  and  the  Prince  of  Orange  grasp 
hands  and  for  a  time  keep  the  whole  papal  forces  at  bay.  Upon 
him,  in  a  great  degree,  the  St.  Bartholomew  massacre  turns, 
and  he  is  the  first  and  prominent  victim  of  that  awful  day. ''  He 
is,  then,  the  chief  historical  character  of  that  age  in  France! 

His  family  ties  gave  him  a  peculiar  position.  By  birth  and 
marriages  he  was  allied  to  the  ruling  houses  of  France,  closely  to 
the  Montmorencies  and  the  Bourbons,  and,  through  them,  more 
distantly,  to  the  Guises,  the  D'Albrets,  and  even  the  royal  house 
of  Yalois.  His  wife,  Charlotte  Laval,  a  more  than  representa- 
tive woman,  allied  him  to  several  other  noble  families.  All  this 
had  some  importance  in  the  time  of  a  decaying  feudalism.  Be- 
yond this,  he  was  more  fully  in  correspondence  with  Calvin  than 
any  other  of  the  French  nobles.  Upon  no  man  in  France  ( ex- 
cept Beza  when  he  was  there)  did  Calvin  so  much  depend,  and 
the  reliance  was  mutual.  '  Not  to  recognize  the  great  influence 
of  the  Genevan  Reformer  in  the  history  of  the  Huguenots  is  to 
treat  the  subject  with  a  partiality  inexcusable.  While  seeking  to 
throw  additional  light  upon  this  point,  I  may  still  say  that  my 


PREFACE.  » 

limits  did  not  allow  me  to  do  full  justice  to  the  subject.  But  tlie 
iuquirer  maj'  satisfy  himself  by  going  to  the  source  which  1  have 
found  so  replete  in  historical  matter — Calvin's  Letters,  Pre^sby- 
terian  Board  of  Publication.  It  is  hoped  that  the  present  work 
may  serve  as  an  exponent  of  the  many  letters  which  relate  to 
France. 

Before  the  reader  are  brought  three  periods  of  the  French 
Reformation:  1st.  That  of  Repression  (1512-1555),  when  the 
vain  attempt  was  made  to  reform  the  Papal  Church.  There  was 
little  open  preaching,  but  the  i)salm-singing  was  tremendous,  and 
there  were  hosts  of  secret  believers  in  the  gospel.  2d.  That  of 
Organization  ( 1555-1562).  The  history  of  the  first  Presbyterian 
Chuich  in  Paris  and  the  account  of  the  first  national  synod  have 
received  a  special  treatment  which  may  be  interesting.  The 
rapid  growth  of  churches  in  seven  years  must  appear  astonish- 
ing. It  refers  us  to  the  introduction  of  two  new  agencies — that 
of  a  ministry  and  that  of  a  Reformed  nobility  to  sustain  the  mis- 
sionary labours.  To  these  is  mainly  due  the  rise  of  the  Hugue- 
nots as  a  religious  body.  The  increase  of  churches  was  severely 
checked  in  the  year  1502,  and  many  organizations  were  destroj'ed. 
3d.  That  of  Resistance  ( 1562  to  the  edict  of  Nantes,  1598).  It 
is  the  period  of  the  civil  wars,  but  the  present  work  closes  with 
the  St.  Bartholomew  massacre  { 1572),  after  which  an  almo.st  en- 
tirely new  class  of  men  appear  as  the  representatives  of  Protest- 
antism in  France.  Even  that  terrible  event  did  not  cause  the 
"  fall"  of  the  Huguenots.  It  was  a  shock  from  which  they  re- 
covered. It  tended  to  purify  them  from  politics  and  lead  them 
nearer  to  God.  Even  by  means  of  it  they  rose  to  a  nobler  spir- 
itual height. 

That  a  historian  may  express  his  own  opinions  upon  disjmted 
points  has  been  taken  for  granted  by  several  writers  who  have 
assured  us  of  their  impartiality,  and  have  impeached  the  Hugue- 
nots before  the  world  as  if  it  were  the  Calvinistic  type  of  the 
Reform  that  caused  the  troubles  in  France,  and  not  the  Reform 
itself  Perhai)s  one  n)ay  venture  to  answer  the  impeachmout 
and  still  not  be  partial  nor  guilty  of  prejudice.     "When  the  Hu- 


10  PREFACE. 

guenots  are  cliartrcd  witli  a  want  of  satisfactorj'  ])olicj',  it  should 
be  remembered  that  they  were  struggling  for  conscientious  prin- 
ciples. We  do  not  claim  that  thej'  were  free  from  all  rude  pro- 
ceedings. AVe  admit  certain  deeds  of  violence  and  rough  retali- 
ation.'} We  go  farther — we  state  them.  And  farther  still,  as 
Calvin  and  their  wisest  leaders  did,  we  condemn  them.  But 
even  here  a  fair  judgment  cannot  be  passed  on  them  without 
having  in  mind  the  trains  of  events  that  preceded  them.  To 
know  whether  they  were  lawless  we  must  know  how  far  there  was 
any  just  law.  Let  the  facts  be  stated  and  the  reader  thrown 
upon  his  own  judgment  of  them.  '  If  I  have  given  considerable 
space  to  certain  movements  that  seem  to  be  political  or  military, 
it  is  because  they  bore  so  powerfully  upon  the  religious  affairs. 
By  slurring  over  the  one  class  of  events  we  misunderstand  the 
other.  They  run  on  together  as  they  do  in  such  portions  of  in- 
spired history  as  the  books  of  the  Kings,  Ezra,  Esther  and 
Daniel.) 

The 'authorities  consulted  are — 1st.  Extreme  Romanists,  such 
as  Daniel,  Maimbourg,  Tavannes,  Blaise  de  Montluc,  Davila 
Pallavicino;  2d.  Moderate  Romanists,  as  De  Thou  (Thuanus), 
Castelnau,  Brantome,  Anquetil,  Grarnier,  Mezeray,  Sarpi,  La- 
cratelle,  Perau  ;  3d.  Skeptical,  as  Bayle  and  Voltaire ;  4th.  Prot- 
estants, as  Beza,  D'Aubign6  (Theo.  Agrippa),  La  None,  Du- 
plessis-Mornay,  Sully,  Cayet  Victor  Palma,  Memoires  de  Cond6, 
Benoit,  Laval  and  Puaux.  The  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew, 
by  Henry  White,  London,  1868,  came  fresh  to  me  while  revising 
my  manuscripts  for  the  last  time.  Other  works  consulted  are 
named  in  the  references,  and  j'et  my  researches  have  extended  to 
many  volumes  more,  among  which  are  those  rich  French  collec- 
tions entitled  "  Memoires  relatifs  ii  THistoire,"  and  "Documents 
surl'Histoire  de  France."  So  far  as  pos.sible  I  have  consulted 
the  contemporary  writers. 

No  biography  of  Admiral  Coligny,  originally  written  in  Eng- 
lish, has  come  to  my  knowledge.  The  tran.slations  have  been 
small  books.  My  long  search  was  rewarded  by  obtaining  the 
Gasparis  Colinii  Castellonii,  Magni  Quondam  Franciae  Amiralii, 


PREFACE.  11 

Vita,  MDLXXV.,*  written  so  soon  after  the  great  massacre  that 
the  names  of  the  author,  the  press  and  place  of  publication  were 
prudently  omitted.  The  author,  doubtless,  was  Cornaton,  a 
gentleman  of  Coligny's  suite,  and  an  eyewitness  of  much  that 
he  relates.  My  copy  is  evidently  one  of  the  first  edition.  So 
rare  is  the  little  book  that  I  do  not  find  any  modern  writer  nam- 
ing it.  Before  obtaining  it  I  had  the  "Life"  which  appears  in 
Clarke's  Martyrology  (1770),  the  "Memoirs  of  Gasjjer  de  (Jol- 
ligny"  (Edinburgh,  1844),  which  is  a  translation  of  the  "  3Ie- 
moires  de  Messire  Gasper  de  Colligny  .  .  .  il  Paris,  1665;"  and 
had  consulted  "  The  Lyfc  of  the  most  Godly,  Valiant  and  Noble 
Cajitaine,  and  Maintener  of  the  trew  Christian  Kcligion  in 
Fraunce,  Jasper  Colignie  Shatilion  ....  1576"  (Harleiau 
Misccllanj'. )  To  my  surprise  I  found  that  all  these  were  only 
versions  of  the  Vita  Colinii. 

The  French  have  been  more  voluminous  on  this  subject. 
Brantomc  ( Ilommos  Illustres)  gave  more  than  u.sual  space  to  his 
personal  reminiscences  of  the  Admiral.  The  fullest  early  "  Vie" 
was  by  Gatien  do  Courtilz  de  Sandras,  lOSl)  (my  edition  1691). 
The  Abbe  Perau  devoted  two  volumes  to  him  in  the  Hommes 
Illustres  ( 1747),  and  a  Vic  de  Andelot.  As  a  model  for  his 
soui,  M.  de  la  Ponneraye  published  a  Histoire  de  I'Admiral  Co- 
ligni,  in  1830.  In  the  Seances  de  I'Acadt^mie,  1848,  are  the 
Souvenirs  IIistori(jues  sur  I'Aniiral  de  Colign3^  Valuable  articles 
are  found  in  the  Dictionnaire  Historiquc  de  IMoreri,  Biographic 
Universelle  and  La  France  Protestante,  par  MM.  Haag. 
Among  so  many  biographers  and  historians  of  all  beliefs  there  is 
a  general  agreement  concerning  the  lofty  character  and  motives 
of  the  admiral. 

It  was  while  searching  in  Paris  for  the  s]>ot  where  Coligny  was 
murdered  that  I  fbrniod  the  pari>oso  of  which  this  work  is,  in 
part,  the  expression.  Since  that  day  ( 1862),  the  Huguenots 
have  received  more  and  more  attention  in  popular  literature — a 
proof  of  an  increasing  demand  among  the  people.     If  this  work 

*  Bought  at  the  sale  of  the  library  of  the  late  Win.  Jenks,  D.  D.,  tho 
compiler  of  the  Coniijrchensive  Curuincutary. 


12  PREFACE. 

shall  help  to  supply  it,  the  labours  expended  will  not  be  in  vain. 
The  object  is  not  to  rekindle  the  old  fires  of  animosity  or  encour- 
age a  party  spirit  in  religion,  but  to  incite  the  heart  to  gratitude 
to  God  that  the  day  of  persecution  is  past — if  indeed  it  be  past 
— and  to  lead  the  people  to  recount  the  price  of  their  civil  and 
religious  liberty,  as  well  as  to  renew  the  spirit  of  piety  exhibited 
by  those  who  suffered  for  the  gospel. 

W.  M.  B. 

Chicago,  III. 


Admiral  Coligny. 


CHAPTER   I. 

A   ItlSING    61SKEMATION. 
(1517-1547.) 

IN  an  outburst  of  grief  Pope  Adrian  VI.  exclaimed, 
"  How  much  depends  on  the  times  in  which  even  the 
best  of  men  are  cast !"  The  words  were  engraved  upon  his 
monument.  If  his  short  three  years  (1521-'23)  in  the  papal 
chair  had  been  thirty,  there  might  have  been  some  compro- 
mise between  the  old  Romanism  and  the  new  Protestantism, 
especially  in  France.  It  was  possible,  despite  the  intense 
opposition  of  all  who  cried,  "  Rome  must  not  concede  that 
Khe  is  in  error.  Reforms  are  dangerous."  He  was  anxious 
to  repress  abuses.  His  strong  idea  was,  a  reformed  Papacy. 
In  France  the  new  idea  was,  a  papalized  Reform.  On  this 
half-way  ground  Meaux*  and  Rome  might  have  struck 

*  The  light  dawned  upon  Lefevre  as  early  as  1512.  He  and  hia 
student,  William  Farel,  with  the  brothers  Roussel,  were  driven  out 
of  Paris  by  the  Sorbonne.  At  Meaux  they  made  the  first  experiment, 
in  France,  of  a  Reformed  Church  {15'21-'2.')),  but  not  fully  separate 
from  the  Roman  see.  The  defection  of  Bishop  Rriyonnet  was  its  ruin. 
Tiic  two  cliurches  of  Montbeliard  and  Met/  hardly  helon^ed  to  France. 
They  were  oi-ganized  l)y  Fare!.  In  my  "  William  Farel''  considerable 
space  has  been  given  to  tliis  period  of  tlie  suppressed  Reform  in 
France,  1512-1525. 

Vol.  I.— 2  13 


14  AD.MIUAI.    COLIOXY. 

hands.  Death  removed  tlu;  pope.  Persecution  worse  than 
death  scattered  the  flock  gathere<l  under  Lefevre  and  Farel 
— the  one  the  patriarch  of  the  new  movement  in  France,  the 
other  the  pioneer  of  the  grander  work  in  French  Switzer- 
land. 

Reformers  may  live  to  see  their  policies  fail,  while  their 
principles  are  only  coming  to  the  full  harvest.  Lefevre, 
Roussel  and  Queen  Margaret  of  Navarre  were  at  the  head 
of  a  new  religious  party.  They  put  the  earnestness  of  their 
lives  into  the  work  of  translating  and  circulating  the  word 
of  God ;  preaching  the  gospel  and  raising  up  an  host  of 
preachers,  whose  voices  had  the  clear  ring  of  saving  truth  ; 
sending  into  the  pulpits  of  the  old  churches  men  who 
boldly  told  the  listening  crowds  how  to  win  eternal  life ; 
comforting  martyrs  and  giving  refuge  to  scores  who  barely 
escaped  with  their  lives.  It  was  a  very  peculiar  movement. 
This  band  of  "gospellers"  was  fearless  for  Christ,  but 
afraid  of  the  Cliurch.  Its  policy  was  to  reform  abuses  in 
the  Roman  Church,  but  not  to  depart  from  that  Church. 
It  held  to  the  mass,  but  sought  to  engraft  the  sermon  {le 
preche) — two  words  on  which  everything  was  hanging. 
The  mass  was  the  symbol  of  Popery;  "the  preach,"  of 
Protestantism.  The  union  was  impossible.  Rome  would 
not  tolerate  the  Reform.  She  suppressed  the  preaching. 
The  crown,  the  clergy  and  the  Sorbonne  waged  against  this 
party  the  terrors  of  fire  and  sword.  The  policy  failed  in 
the  forenoon  of  the  sixteenth  century,  but  cropped  out 
again  in  the  days  of  Fenelon  and  tlie  Jansenists. 

Yet  the  principles  did  not  fail  to  secure  a  wonderful 
result.  Those  doctrines  of  true  faith,  hope  and  charity ; 
those  Testaments,  tracts,  poems  and  hymns  cast  among  the 
common  people,  who  hid  them  in  their  homes  and  hearts 
and  worshipped  the  Lord  in  secret ;  those  glowing  words 
of  priests  who  were  Protestants  in  regard  to  Christ,  while 


A   RisiX(;  (;i;\j:itATiox.  15 

Koinanist^  on  tin-  side  of  tlie  Church  ;  and  tliose  testimo- 
nies of  martyrs  at  the  stake, — could  not  be  fruitless.  Hap- 
pily for  the  people  in  tiieir  houses,  there  was  "  night  there." 
The  darkness  was  the  pavilion  of  Jehovah.  We  see  in  the 
little  meetings  of  neighbours  by  night,  to  read  the  Scrip- 
tures and  ])ray,  a  striking  feature  of  the  Reform  at  that 
period.  Believers  were  multiplied.  As  a  full  crop  of  corn 
hiis  been  raised  with  scarcely  a  shower  of  rain  upon  it,  and 
dependent  uj)on  the  dews,  there  being  a  constant  stirring 
of  the  good  soil,  so  grew  up  a  sturdy  race  of  Huguenots 
under  the  nightly  dews  of  grace,  while  the  persecutors  did 
the  ploughing  in  their  terrible  way.  But  until  the  year 
1555  these  Chridaudins  were  a  hidden  people. 

Two  forces  were  needed  to  bring  out  of  tbis  dark  seclu- 
sion the  Reformed  Church  of  France.  One  was  a  class  of 
ministers  who  would  dare  to  preach  openly  and  organize 
the  Reform ;  the  other,  a  class  of  nobles  and  chiefs*  who 
would  dare  to  profess  the  faith,  shield  the  preachers  and 
support  the  new  clmrches.  During  this  period  of  repression, 
the  converts  were  almost  entirely  of  the  middle  classes — 
the  tradesmen,  the  artists,  the  thinking  jieople,  the  men  of 
education,  lawyers,  teachers,  physicians  were  among  them. 
The  peasantry,  or  "the  ma.sses,"  were  the  last  to  be  reached. 
Rural  tenants  were  waiting  to  see  what  the  lords  of  the  soil 
would  do,  or  for  some  kind  pastor  to  enter  their  cottages 
and  tell  them  the  truth.  John  Calvin  was  the  human 
agent  in  sup]>lyiiig  the  needed  ministry.  The  three 
brothers  of  Chatillon  became  the  head  of  the  Reformed 
nobility  and  gentry ;  of  these  the  chief  was  Admiral  Co- 
ligny.  He  is  the  important  link  between  the  Genevan 
Reformer  and  the  Protestant  Church   in   France,  and  the 

*  Only  three  or  four  Reformed  nobles  ajipe.ir  from  1515  to  1555 — ■ 
Fare],  Berqnin,  Anemond  de  (\iet  and  the  Chevalier  Ciandet.  We  do 
not  forget  Margaret  of  Navarre. 


,16  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

correspondence  between  these  two  men  is  one  mark  of  the 
rise  of  the  Huguenots  as  a  powerful  religious  body — a 
body  which  cannot  be  understood  unless  the  large  influence 
of  Calvin  and  Coligny  be  recognized.^  Of  the  one  no  spe- 
cific biography  is  here  required ;  of  the  other  a  history  is 
essential,  for  he  is  the  representative  man. 

AVe  are  then  to  trace  the  history  of  a  man  whose  noble 
deeds  justify  a  glance  at  his  noble  birth.  He  lived  in  an 
age  when  rank  was  chiefly  determined  by  blood.  Prefer- 
ment was  an  inheritance.  It  was  possible  for  the  plebeian 
to  rise;  the  patrician  had  already  been  born  upon  an  emi- 
nence. Nobility  gave  position,  but  it  proved  the  severe 
test  of  character.  Without  the  advantages  of  noble  an- 
cestry, Coligny  could  hardly  have  reached  his  point  of 
external  greatness ;  with  them,  if  not  in  defiance  of  them, 
he  attained  to  a  loftier  height,  establishing  his  merits  upon 
internal  goodness. 

Certain  hardy  pioneers,  who  made  themselves  a  home  in 
the  deep  forests  west  of  Lake  Leman,  and  not  far  from  the 
ancient  battle-field  of  Julius  Csesar  and  Ariovistus,  were 
named  "The  Colony."  The  chief  family  took  the  name 
of  Coligny.*  The  lands  were  held  in  the  name  of  the  lords 
of  Coligny,  who  rose  to  such  greatness  that  they  assumed 
the  powers  of  a  sovereign  house.  The  family  arms  bore  a 
crowned  eagle.  They  coined  money,  levied  taxes,  decided 
upon  the  life  or  death  of  their  subjects,  and  made  war  with 
vengeance  in  the  days  of  chivalry.  The  ruins  of  their  castle 
may  still  be  found  in  Bresse.  By  little  and  little  they  seem 
to  have  been  reduced  by  the  dukes  of  Savoy.  From  Ge- 
neva, which  had  muttered  threats  to  keep  his  forefathers  in 

*  Vita  Colinii.  "  De  Colonia  vocabantur ;  postea  .  .  .  Coliiiii  dicti 
8unt."  Old  French,  "Colognac"  in  Franche  Comt^.  "The  towns  of 
Nantua  and  Monlouet,  with  their  dependencies,  formed  part  of  tlie 
family  domain." 


A    RISING    (iKNKIlATlOX.  ]? 

Jiubjc'etion,  was  tu  come  the  voice  of  persuasion  that  would 
bring  Admiral  Coligny  into  Christian  liberty.  Passing 
over  "  tlie  infinite  number  of  great  men"  who  sprang  from 
this  family,  we  tind  one  Jean  de  Coligny,*  the  grandfather 
of  our  hero,  growing  weary  of  his  ancestral  home.  Not 
long  before  Charles  the  Bold  of  Burgundy  became  the 
terror  of  France,  this  John  of  the  Colony  removed  to  his 
large  estates  between  the  valleys  of  the  Loire  and  Yonne, 
and  there  around  the  ca.stlc  walls  grew  up  the  straggling 
town  of  Chatillon-sur-Loing.  Loyal  at  heart  to  his  French 
king,  he  refused  to  join  with  the  nobles  in  their  oj^positiou 
to  the  taxes,  their  uprising  and  their  bold  defiance  of  Louis 
XI.  at  the  gates  of  the  capital.  When  Charles  the  Bold 
was  sweeping  around  Paris  to  capture  it,  he  bravely  fought 
against  the  rash  liege-lord  of  his  fathers,  and  was  one  of 
the  valorous  cavaliers  who  claimed  the  victory  at  Montlhery, 
which  still  is  called  "the  cemetery  of  the  Burgundians." 

His  mantle  fell  upon  his  son  Gaspard,  who  fought  under 
the  banner  of  Charles  VIL,  took  lessons  from  the  Chevalier 
Bayard,  and  saw  Burgundy  united  to  France.  He  shared 
with  his  young  king  in  the  conquest  of  Naples,  an  event 
which  has  been  made  the  dividing-point  between  ancient 
and  modern  history.  When  Naples  was  lost,  he  aided  his 
next  king,  Louis  XIL,  in  the  attempt.s  upon  Milan,  a  prize 
not  to  be  won  even  by  the  long  wars  in  which  the  sons  of 
both  king  and  captain  were  to  engage.  Francis  I.  made 
him  grand-marshal,  and  he  was  one  of  the  chieftains  at  the 

*  Moreri,  Diet.  Ili.stoi-iqiie,  gives  a  full  Kcnealojry  hnck  to  the  tentli 
century,  willi  an  array  of  abbots  and  crnsatkTs.  "Their  great  wealtli 
enabled  them  to  make  many  rich  religious  endowments."  In  114G 
Humbert  de  Coligny  tblluwed  Conrad  II.  to  .Jerusalem  ;  again  he  went, 
leading  six  sons.  "  The  membei-s  of  this  illustrious  liouse  liad  been 
mixed  up  witli  the  great  movements  of  France  for  nearly  five  hun- 
dred years." — Vita  Colinii. 
2  s 


18  ADMIRAL    C'OIJONY. 

interview  witli  Jleiiiy  VIII.  on  the  "Field  of  the  Ck)th 
of  Gold." 

Gaspard  hud  proved  himself  "  one  of  the  marvels  of  his 
age,"  when  he  allied  himself  to  the  proudest  family  of 
France.  No  man  was  greater  in  his  own  eyes  than  Anne 
de  jNIontmorency ;  in  the  eyes  of  the  people  none  was  more 
worthy  of  the  promotions  reserved  for  him.  His  sister 
Louisa  was  the  widow  of  Frederic  de  Mailly,  one  of  the 
first  noblemen  of  Picardy.  Among  her  several  children 
was  Madelaine,  whom  we  shall  meet  as  an  ornament  of  the 
Reformation.  Louisa  held  a  high  rank  at  the  royal  court, 
and  was  among  the  few  ladies  whose  hearts  were  pure  and 
names  free  from  scandal.  In  1514  she  became  the  wife  of 
Gaspard  de  Coligny.  To  them  were  given  three  sons,  Odet, 
Gaspard  and  Francis,  who  were  to  adorn  the  family  name 
by  their  virtues  and  their  heroic  services  in  the  cause  of 
truth  and  liberty.  The  star  of  the  Reformation,  seen  by 
Lefevre,  Zwingli  and  Luther,  and  shining  into  his  mother's 
heart,  was  presiding  over  the  birth  of  Gaspard,  February 
16,  1517,  at  Chatillon-sur-Loing. 

It  must  give  delight  to  a  good  father  to  see  his  own  tastes 
and  spirit  transmitted  to  a  son.  The  elder  Gaspard  soon 
noted  the  military  tendencies  of  his  filial  namesake.  With 
a  board  of  ivory  soldiers,  drum  and  little  sword,  he  made 
the  game  of  war  his  chief  occupation.  Before  he  was  five 
years  old  he  stood  with  his  father  and  drilled  a  regiment 
of  men.  Greatly  pleased  with  one  soldier,  he  gave  him 
the  sword,  saying,  "  I  shall  reward  every  one  who  does  well 
his  duty."  His  father  was  so  pleased  that  he  embraced  the 
child,  saying,  "Either  I  am  mistaken,  or  the  age  will  speak 
of  you."  To  test  his  courage  he  was  asked  to  fire  one  of 
the  cannons.  At  first  he  flinched,  and  the  soldiers  shouted 
that  he  was  afraid.  "You  think  me  afraid  !"  he  exclaimed. 
"  You  shall  see."    The  instant  roar  proclaimed  his  courage. 


A    RISING    (ilONKKATlOX.  19 

The  senior  Ga.sjianl  was  made  ehief-mai*shal  of  the  army, 
ami  he  soon  ha<l  work  to  call  him  from  home.  The  Span- 
iards were  attacking  one  coast  and  the  English  the  othej*. 
A  great  army  was  laying  siege  to  Fontarabia  on  the  bor- 
ders of  Spain,  and  the  garrison  was  enduring  a  famine. 
The  marshal  was  ordered  to  lead  thither  a  relieving  force 
with  the  utmost  speed.  On  the  road  he  overheated  himself 
and  was  thrown  into  a  malignant  fever.  At  Aqs  he  found 
that  he  must  die.  He  made  a  will,  commending  his  wife 
and  children  to  the  care  of  his  king  and  his  brother-in-law 
IMontmorency,  and  died  on  the  ninth  day  of  his  illness.  It 
was  the  St.  Bartholomew  of  1522.  France  lost  a  valiant 
general  and  the  king  a  wise  counsellor,  for  the  marshal  had 
"a  fine  head  and  a  good  arm."* 

The  grief  of  the  three  fatherless  lads  found  some  solace 
in  their  mother's  love  and  in  their  affection  for  each  other. 
AVhoevcr  was  loved  by  the  one  was  loved  by  the  other  two, 
and  whoever  offended  one  had  an  affair  to  settle  with  the 
entire  three.  "  They  presented  a  striking  example  for  the 
youth  of  our  age,  for  brothers  sometimes  show  more  of 
hatred  than  of  love."  Their  uncle,  faithful  to  his  trust, 
gave  attention  to  their  wants,  and  they  began  to  learn  his 
character. 

Anne  de  Montmorency  was  proud  of  four  things :  that 
Queen  Anne  had  given  him  her  name,  that  he  was  de- 
scended from  Pharamond,  the  first  French  nobleman  who 
had  received  baptism,  whence  the  family  motto,  "God  help 
the  first  Christian  baron," f  that  he  Mas  hated  by  the  en- 

*  Braiitome,  Marslial  dc  Cliatillon. 

t  "  Dieu  aide  an  premier  Chretien."  Add  tn  tlie  p.itornal  line  the 
deseent  on  the  mother's  sitle  from  IMiaramond,  and  (uiif^ny  liad  a 
genealogy  before  which  the  pretenlions  (inises  might  tnrn  pale.  The 
lionour  was  injportant  in  that  age  of  decaying  fendali*<m,  however 
imaginary  the  ancestral  line.     A  Montmorency  once  said  to  a  Basque- 


20  ADMIRAL    COLIONY. 

vious  Guises,  and  that  the  king  could  not  well  do  without 
him  in  managing  the  affairs  of  government.  He  had  played 
with  Francis  I.  in  his  childhood.  He  was  a  friend  of  the 
king's  sister,  Margaret,  who  persuaded  her  brother  to  give 
him  the  baton  of  Marshal  of  France  soon  after  the  death 
of  the  senior  Gaspard  Coligny.  He  might  have  become  a 
friend  to  the  Protestants  if  he  had  not  been  too  great  a 
politician.  In  war  he  excelled  all  his  rivals,  and  he  may 
have  taken  delight  in  telling  his  nephews  how  his  honest 
father  had  sent  him  forth  in  his  youth  to  break  his  first 
lance  in  Italy,  under  the  renowned  Gaston  de  Foix,  with 
only  five  hundred  francs  in  his  purse,  two  horses  and  an 
outfit  of  arms,  saying  to  him,  "  None  can  know  themselves, 
the  Avorld  and  the  realities  of  life,  unless  early  taught  to 
rough  it."  He  had  roughed  it  in  many  a  severe  campaign, 
acquired  wisdom  and  keen  penetration,  but  had  not  lost  his 
princely  manners,  nor  his  harsh  and  violent  temper,  nor  his 
narrow  bigotry. 

In  the  choice  of  teachers  for  the  two  older  brothers, 
Madame  de  Chatillon  showed  her  .sympathy  with  the  new 
spirit  of  Reform.  One  was  Nicolas  Berault,  professor  of 
law,  orator,  editor,  author,  and  no  mean  rival  of  the  most 
eminent  scholars  of  his  age.  Erasmus  had  been  his  guest 
at  Orleans,  and  urged  him  to  throw  the  charms  of  his  tongue 
into  his  pen  and  write  eloquent  books  for  the  world.  The 
sage  remembered  the  scholar  in  prefaces  and  dedications. 
Berault  commented  upon  some  of  the  Psalms,  and  his  son 
Francis  embraced  the  Reformed  religion,  wrote  Latin 
poetry  and  taught  Greek  with  honour.  The  other  teacher 
was  the  old  soldier  Prunelai,  proficient  in  the  social  and 
military  accomplishments. 

The  mother  and  uncle  intended  that  Gaspard  should  be 

Celt,  "  Do  you  know  that  we  date  a  thousand  years  back  ?"  The  re- 
joinder was,  "  We  have  left  off  dating." 


A    RISING    GENERATION.  21 

educated  for  the  priesthood  and  Odct  lor  a  gentleman,  a.s 
he  was  by  birth  the  heir  to  the  estates.  But  Gaspard  had 
his  mind  sot  upon  a  military  life.  Berault  was  ordered  to 
persuade  him  to  study  for  the  Church.  "  If  he  should 
enter  the  priesthood  and  become  a  bishop  or  a  cardinal," 
said  Montmorency,  "  he  would  make  you  rich  presents  and 
load  you  with  benefices." 

"  I  am  not  seeking  my  own  interest,  but  the  good  of  my 
scholars,"  implied  Berault,  who  told  Gasj)ard  of  his  uncle's 
wish,  pointing  out  the  advantages  of  being  a  cardinal  and 
also  the  dangers  of  such  a  dignity,  but  advising  him  to  fol- 
low his  inclination. 

"  1  shall  not  be  a  cardinal,"  answered  Gaspard  ;  "  and 
rather  than  study  for  that  profession,  I  will  not  look  into 
another  book."  It  was  agreed  that  Odet  sliould  study  for 
the  Church,  giving  to  his  brother  the  heirship  to  the  estates. 
Their  teacher  guided  them  in  the  ways  of  obedience,  tem- 
perance, truth  and  religion.  They  firmly  believed  in  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church.  They  were  free  from  the  vices  so 
common  among  the  youth  of  their  times.  In  later  years 
Gaspard  "  had  two  things  in  him  that  seemed  extremely  op- 
posite :  a  great  vivacity  of  wit  and  a  very  slow  speech,  so  that 
one  would  have  said  that  he  mused  upon  what  he  was  going 
to  say.  The  politicians  would  have  it  to  be  a  piece  of  cun- 
ning, to  gain  time  to  observe  those  with  whom  he  had  to  do. 
...  It  is  much  more  likely  that  it  was  a  fault  contracted 
by  frequenting  with  his  master,  Berault,  in  whom  the  same 
thing  was  observed."*  h>ince  Gaspard  refused  to  be  a  car- 
dinal, Montmorency  asked  that  a  red  hat  might  be  given  to 
Odet,  who  was  fond  of  repose  and  study.  The  hat  was 
forthcoming  in  a  ship  which  was  bringing  to  France  the 
craftiest  woman  who  ever  troubled  a  modern  kingdom. 

Catherine  de  Medici  was  an  orphan  of  eleven  years  in  a 
*  Bayle,  Art.  Berault. 


22  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

convent  when  her  uncle,  Pope  ('lenient  VII.,  besieged  her 
native  Florence.  "  Put  her  in  a  basket,"  said  the  city 
council,  "  and  hang  her  over  the  walls  as  a  target  for  the 
enemy's  cannon."  But  she  was  spared.  She  had  many  a 
narrow  escape  while  tossed  from  one  cloister  to  another,  and 
she  began  to  think  that  she  must  be  a  nun.  Happy  for 
France  if  she  had  taken  the  veil !  At  the  age  of  thirteen 
she  was  betrothed  to  Henry,  second  son  of  Francis  I.,  the 
greater  union  being  between  the  Pope  and  the  French  king 
against  the  emperor  Charles  V.  Henry  was  fourteen  days 
older  than  herself  She  then  seemed  an  innocent  child, 
wonderfully  captivating  and  betraying  none  of  those  en- 
chantments which  proved  the  subtle  poison  for  destroying 
heresy.  In  1533  a  brilliant  retinue  shared  in  her  pride  as 
she  sailed  on  the  Mediterranean,  her  large  eyes  sparkling 
and  her  voice  as  clear  as  a  bell  when  she  said,  "  I'm  to  be 
the  daughter-in-law  of  the  great  king  of  France."  The 
wedding  was  celebrated  at  ISIarseilles,  and  on  "  the  tragic 
pair,"  was  pronounced  that  papal  blessing  which  was  to  prove 
the  curse  upon  the  French  nation. 

The  overjoyed  pope  showed  his  gratitude  by  giving  four 
red  hats  to  the  king  to  deck  the  heads  of  four  French 
papists,  and  thus  bind  them  to  Rome.  One  was  for  Odet 
de  Chatillon,  seventeen  years  of  age.  To  qualify  him  for 
the  cardinalship  he  was  made  bishop  of  Beauvais.  How 
well  the  hat  fitted  him  and  how  wise  the  pope  was  in  his 
present  tiie  coming  pages  will  show,  but  it  certainly  did  not 
evince  papal  infallibility.  "The  pontiff  gave  it  from  polit- 
ical motives,  calculating  that  the  influence  of  the  Coligny 
family  would  aid  him  in  making  good  his  claim  to  his  large 
possessions  in  France."*  Brantome  tells  us  that  he  knew 
the  cardinal  well,  "  and  whenever  I  recall  his  name  it  ap- 
pears to  me  that  France  never  possessed  a  more  discreet, 
*  Vita  Colinii. 


A    laSINc;    (JKNEIJATION.  23 

courteous  and  generous  man.  I  have  heard  thirsc  who 
knew  him  at  the  court  of  Francis  I.  and  Henry  II.  .say  that 
the  <lisprace  of  his  friends  never  shook  his  favour  to  them, 
nor  couhl  his  very  enemies  help  but  love  him,  so  frank  was 
liis  face,  so  open  his  heart  and  so  gentle  his  manners,  for  he 
never  was  rude  to  any  one." 

At  eighteen,  Gaspard,  now  the  lord  of  Chatillon,  was  at 
college  in  Paris,  where  he  was  regarded  as  the  pattern  of 
tliligcnce  and  morality.  The  moral  standard  was  very  low 
among  the  students.  He  and  his  brother  Andelot  were  in 
a  dangerous  whirlpool,  exposed  to  every  sort  of  strife, 
jealousy  and  intrigue.  It  was  a  rude  age,  and  we  may  ex- 
pect rough  scenes  in  a  college  at  stormy  Paris.  Even  the 
professors  were  not  all  studious  of  peace.  Morin,  the  pro- 
vost of  the  faculty,  was  one  day  going  to  the  class-room 
with  his  sword  at  his  side,  when  a  gentleman  of  Poitou  met 
him  and  pressed  him  to  make  a  trial  of  weapons.  In  self- 
defence  the  provost  drew  his  sword.  The  thrusts  became 
lively.  By  a  mishap  the  offender  received  a  wound,  fell 
back  and  expired  in  the  arms  of  his  friends.  He  had  two 
brothel's  in  the  college,  who  rushed  toward  the  provost,  "al- 
ready more  dead  than  alive."  Coligny  was  no  longer  will- 
ing to  remain  a  silent  spectator  of  the  affair,  and  he  stepped 
forward  to  check  their  rage.  He  told  them  how  it  had 
come  to  pass,  but  they  were  not  in  a  mood  to  hear  an  argu- 
ment in  behalf  of  his  teacher.  They  made  a  thrust  at  him 
and  would  have  slain  him,  had  not  a  band  of  students 
ranged  themselves  upon  his  side.  Morin  escaped  their  re- 
venge upon  himself,  but  they  resolved  to  take  it  upon  young 
Coligny. 

Professor  Parini  interfered.  He  sent  the  two  brothers 
to  prison,  where  their  chagrin  made  them  doubly  fierce. 
The  older  one  challenged  Coligny  to  a  duel,  to  be  fought  as 
soon  as  he  should  be  at  liberty.     Duels  were  sanctioned  at 


24  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

that  day  by  liigli  authority.  They  were  supposed  to  be  the 
only  means  of  maintaining  injured  honour.  Coligny  and 
his  brother  Andelot*  accepted  the  challenge  ;  two  brothers 
were  thus  engaged  against  two  brothers.  The  eyes  of  the 
professors  were  upon  them — stealth  was  necessary.  The 
night  was  chosen  to  cover  the  dark  deed.  An  escape  must 
be  made  from  a  window  of  Coligny's  room ;  perhaps  the 
door  was  kept  locked  by  the  janitor.  A  basket  was  pur- 
chased by  his  valet,  at  Coligny's  order,  and  at  the  appointed 
hour  he  and  Andelot  let  themselves  down  to  the  ground. 
Early  in  the  morning  the  challenging  brothers  were  at  the 
chosen  place.  There  was  a  skirmish,  some  blood  was  shed  ; 
Andelot  was  severely  wounded ;  honour  was  supposed  to 
be  fully  maintained  ;  the  Coligny  brothers  had  unexpectedly 
shown  themselves  equal  to  their  taller  foes,  who  were  cha- 
grined rather  than  satisfied,  and  peace  was  restored.  The 
faculty  resolved  to  expel  from  college  the  two  gentlemen 
from  Poitou.f  Coligny  interceded  for  them  in  the  noble- 
ness of  his  disposition,  but  it  does  not  appear  that  he  pre- 
vailed. His  error  in  duelling  is  not  excused,  even  by  the 
custom  of  the  times,  as  he  came  to  understand.  We  shall 
find  him  acting  a  nobler  part  under  greater  provocations. 
AVhile  condemning  his  fault,  we  admire  his  forgiving  spirit 
and  his  magnanimity. 

The  education  which  Coligny  received  was  intended  to 
develop  two  qualities — the  heroic  and  the  graceful.  The 
skill  of  a  soldier  and  the  accomplishments  of  a  courtier 
were  the  two  attainments  which  his  uncle  Montmorency 
chiefly  valued.  "NVe  meet  him  at  the  royal  court  at  an 
early  age,  and  wonder  that  he  so  bravely  resists  its  vices. 

*"  Francois  qu'on  nomma  Andelot."  Conrtiltz,  Vie  de  Coligny. 
Ili.s  estates  bore  the  title  of  Andelot.  He  is  also  called  lyAndelot, 
and  Dandclot. 

f  Courtiltz,  Vie  de  Coligny. 


A    RISING    GENERATION.  25 

It  had  ruined  many  of  the  noblest  young  Frenclimen.  It 
was  a  school  of  manners,  of  morals  and  of  i)olitics.  The 
manners  were  licentious.  The  morals  were  a  mere  pretence ; 
they  were  the  indulgences  of  Romanism  in  its  lowest  state. 
The  politics  were  those  of  Machiavel.  In  everything  the 
main  principle  was  deception.  In  such  a  whited  sepulchre 
the  air  was  pestilential.  And  yet  through  it  some  pure 
spirits  moved.  The  influence  of  his  mother  was  still  ex- 
erted upon  Coligny.  She  was  at  court,  and  the  court  wa.s 
a  troop  of  sixty  or  eighty  ladies  and  a  whole  regiment  of 
gentry.  She  was  in  the  household  of  Margaret  of  Navarre, 
and,  as  there  is  reason  to  believe,  she  was  the  honoured 
governess  of  the  little  princess  Jeanne  D'Albret.  Who 
knows  but  that  she  read  the  following  letter  of  Margaret, 
showing  us  some  of  the  i)owerful  influences  of  truth  exerted 
in  those  fiery  days  ? — 

"  You  ask  me,  my  children,  to  do  a  very  difficult  thing 
— to  invent  a  diversion  that  will  drive  away  your  ennui. 
I  have  been  seeking  all  my  life  to  effect  this;  but  I  have 
found  only  one  remedy,  which  is,  reading  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures. In  perusing  them  my  mind  experiences  its  true  and 
perfect  joy  ;  and  from  the  pleasure  of  the  mind  proceed  the 
repose  and  health  of  the  body.  If  you  desire  me  to  tell  you 
what  I  do  to  be  so  gay  and  well  at  my  advanced  age,  it  is  be- 
cause, as  soon  as  I  get  up,  I  read  these  sacred  books.  Then 
I  see  and  contemplate  the  will  of  God  who  sent  his  Son  to 
us  on  earth  to  preach  that  holy  word,  and  to  announce  the 
sweet  tidings  that  he  promises  to  pardon  our  sins  and  ex- 
tinguish our  debts,  by  giving  us  his  Son,  who  loved  us,  and 
who  suflJl'rod  and  died  for  our  sakes.  This  idea  so  delights 
me  that  I  take  uj*  the  Psalms  and  sing  them  with  my  heart, 
and  pronounce  with  my  tongue,  as  humbly  as  possible,  the 
fine  hymns  with  which  the  Holy  Spirit  inspired  David  and 
the  sacred  authors.  The  pleasure  I  receive  from  this  ex- 
VoL.  I.— 3 


26  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

ercise  so  transports  me  that  I  consider  all  the  evils  that 
may  happen  me  in  the  day  to  be  real  blessings ;  for  I  place 
Him  in  my  heart  by  faith  who  endured  more  misery  for 
me.  Before  I  sup,  I  retire  in  the  same  manner  to  give  my 
soul  a  congenial  lesson.  At  night  I  review  all  that  I 
have  done  in  the  day.  I  implore  pardon  for  my  faults ; 
I  thank  my  God  for  his  favours ;  and  I  lie  down  in  his 
love,  in  his  fear  and  in  his  peace,  free  from  every  worldly 
anxiety." 

Montmorency  must  have  felt  his  bigotry  somewhat  shat- 
tered when  the  letters  of  his  best  friend  ]\Iargaret  were 
constantly  bringing  the  gospel  to  his  mind.  She  always 
called  him  "my  nephew,"  and  when  he  was  on  one  of  his 
marches  against  Charles  V.,  she  wrote :  "  I  send  you,  mon 
neveu,  a  psalter  translated  into  French,  that  the  Avords 
which  the  king  has  caused  his  poets  to  record  may  be  im- 
printed on  your  heart.  I  regret  that  it  is  bound  in  parch- 
ment, but  I  could  not  here  [Valence]  get  a  better  copy.  I 
entreat  Him,  by  Avhose  holy  inspirations  these  Psalms 
were  written,  to  grant  that  the  mantle  of  Joshua  may  de- 
scend upon  you,  for  the  deliverance  of  these  realms."* 

The  Reform  was  in  its  cradle,  and  the  singing  around  it 
was  glorious.  This  is  a  striking  feature  of  that  restless 
age.  A  time  of  song  is  not  a  time  of  social  and  moral 
death.  When  society  is  heaving,  Avhen  party  spirit  runs 
high,  Avhen  war  rages,  or  when  a  political  campaign  keeps 
a  nation  awake,  popular  airs  and  ballads  are  heard  every- 
where. Amid  the  horrors  of  battle  a  soldier  strikes  the 
note  and  the  chorus  runs  along  the  line.  "When  the  Psalms 
were  eagerly  caught  up  by  court  and  crowd,  they  told  of  a 
deep  religious  movement:  the  break  of  the  wave-crests 
show  that  some  tremendous  force  is  agitating  the  sea. 
What  started  this  popular  singing?     A  poor  verse-writer 

*  The  vear  1536. 


A    RISING    GENEUATIOX.  27 

wanted  his  bread.  Heaven  would  turn  h'nn  to  a  good 
account,  and  make  the  enemy  sing  the  truth  into  greater 
faviuir. 

Coligny  must  have  crossed  the  track  of  a  poet's  son,  a 
page  at  court,  the  valet  of  Margaret  of  Navarre,  the  scrib- 
bler of  ditties  to  the  ladies,  a  genius  attempting  to  live  by 
his  wits.  He  was  Clement  Marot.  He  tried  the  law,  but 
gave  up  the  study.  He  went  with  the  army,  but  was  glad 
to  get  away  before  the  battle  came.  These  were  not  his 
mission.  The  Bedists  threw  him  into  prison,  on  suspicion 
of  his  being  a  "  Lutheran."  His  heresy  was  hardly  so 
rank,  and  he  was  set  free.  His  crime  was  fleshly  rather 
tlian  moral ;  he  had  eaten  bacon  in  Lent.  Under  the 
shield  of  Margaret  he  travelled  into  Beam,  and  thence  he 
took  shelter  at  Ferrara,  at  the  court  of  the  good  Duchess 
R('n<>e  (1535).  He  became  her  secretary  and  laureate.  It 
is  something  in  favour  of  a  man,  whose  worse  traits  have 
been  widely  heralded,  that  he  had  the  patronage  of  two 
such  noble  princesses.  Romanists  have  charged  him  with 
im])arting  the  new  doctrines  to  IMadame  Renee.  But  this 
oiily  surviving  child  of  Louis  XH.  had,  doubtless,  received 
tlie  truth  from  Madame  Soubise,  or  her  cousin  jNLargaret, 
before  she  left  her  native  France.  An  extraordinary 
scholar  herself,  she  delighted  to  make  her  court  the  asylum 
of  learned  men  and  increase  the  literary  fame  of  her 
adopted  city.  The  Gospel  had  long  been  in  her  hands  ;  it 
must  have  touched  her  heart.  Yet  much  is  due  to  another 
exile  just  coming  to  her  court.  ^larot  and  Calvin  were 
there  together,  "  the  poet  and  the  preacher  of  the  French 
Reformation ;"  the  one  full  of  sentiment,  the  other  strong 
in  faith.  Neither  of  them  yet  knew  where  he  was  to  strike, 
or  what  he  was  to  do  in  the  world.  !^Larot  saw  his  pa- 
troness under  the  frown  of  her  cruel  husband,  and  wrote  to 
Margaret : 


28  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

Seeing  her  handled  in  this  way, 
Mourning  the  worse  tlian  darkened  day, 
From  France  she's  banished,  I  should  say, 
As  much  as  I. 

O'er  her  poor  cheek  and  swimming  eye 
I've  seen  the  changeful  colours  fly, 
Her  tears  fall  fast  at  festal  high 
Into  her  cup. 

Her  spouse,  who,  pledged  to  duty  near. 
Should  soothe  the  sob  and  dry  the  tear, 
Causes  them  both.     There's  worse  to  fear, 
She  deems  aright. 

The  Duke  saw  too  many  "gospellers"  in  his  palace — 
Calvin,  Marot,  Madame  Soubise  and  her  children,  besides 
certain  Italians.  He  would  soon  banish  them.  But  they 
improved  their  time.  They  met  in  the  private  parlour, 
read  tlie  Scriptures,  prayed  and  confirmed  each  other  in 
the  faith.  Among  them  was  Renee's  daughter  Anne, 
versed  in  Latin  and  Greek,  a  diligent  reader  of  the  Bible, 
fond  of  theology,  and  able  to  sing  with  wondrous  power  the 
best  hymn  that  Marot  could  write.  How  great  her  fall ! 
She  was  to  marry  a  Guise,  become  the  most  bitter  foe  of 
Coligny  and  one  of  the  instigators  of  St.  Bartholomew. 
That  group  is  worthy  of  a  full  picture,  a  monograph. 
Those  conversations  were  to  report  themselves  in  telling 
deeds.  Marot  grew  brave — perhaps  sincerely  bold.  He 
■wrote  to  Francis  I.  a  courageous  lettfer,  with  a  sting  of 
rhyming  truth  in  it — 

The  Sorbonnists,  in  their  alarm, 
Have  thought  to  do  a  poet  harm  ; 
They  and  the  court  liave  said  and  say, 
They  will  me  as  a  felon  slay. 
Then  let  them  one  more  victim  seize ! 
Oh  that  it  might  the  wise  Lord  please, 


A    RISING    CiENKKATIO.V.  29 

For  liiri  afllictf*!  people's  good, 

To  glut  their  longing  for  ray  blood, 

If  thus  their  foul  abuse  and  deed 

AVerc  made  po  clear  that  men  would  heed ! 

Kay,  five  times  blessed  were  my  death, 

If  by  the  stopping  of  my  breatii 

A  million  belter  lives  should  be 

From  error  set  for  ever  free ! 

That  was  saying  a  great  deal,  for  martyrdom  was  not 
incre  poetry  in  that  day.  A  breath  of  Calvin  had  passed 
over  those  lines.  These  men  were  to  part  for  a  few  years. 
Did  the  theologian  give  the  poet  a  new  theme  for  verse? 
^larot  returned  to  Paris,  Madame  Renee  having  made  clear 
the  way.  He  studied  with  the  eminent  Francis  Vatable, 
tlie  king's  professor  of  Hebrew.  He  turned  about  forty 
I'salms  into  French  verse.  Despite  the  Sorbonnc,  he 
])riiite<l  tliein.  The  king  was  pleased.  A  copy  was  for- 
warded to  Charles  V.,  who  sent  the  poet  two  hundred 
doubloons  and  urged  him  to  go  on.  These  psalms  were 
hailed  as  "a  great  invention"  made  by  the  "prince  of  i)oets 
and  tijc  poet  of  princes."  The  court  sang  them  to  popular 
airs,  for  they  had  no  other,  as  Protestantism  had  not  yet 
composed  the  tunes.  Each  had  a  favourite.  Catherine's 
was  the  sixth:  "  0  Lord,  in  wrath  rebuke  me  not."  Henry's 
was,  ''He  blessed  is  who  fears  the  Lc.rd"  (128th).  At  a 
later  day  Charles  IX.  sang  when  hunting,  "  Like  as  the 
hart  doth  breathe  and  bray"f42d).  The  people  eagerly 
took  them  from  the  press.  They  could  not  be  printed  fast 
enoiiLib.  They  crowded  out  the  ballads  and  low  ditties 
which  hail  been  so  common  in  France.  The  noble  in  his 
castle  sang  them.  The  peasant  among  his  vines  delighted 
in  the  songs.  The  streets  of  cities  resounded  with  them. 
The  valleys  were  full  of  them,  and  their  voice  was  redoub- 
led from  the  mountains.    A  new  agency  was  promoting  the 

3* 


30  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

unorganized  Reform.  It  was  the  only  one  that  could  have 
fired  the  souls  of  men.  Providence  had  timed  it  to  meet 
the  great  necessity. 

Marot  was  not  safe  in  Paris.  In  his  Avanderings  he  was 
drawn  to  Geneva  (1543),  where  Calvin  gave  him  both  wel- 
come and  work.*  Beza  helped  to  versify  the  entire  psalm- 
ody. Goudirael  and  William  Francke  were  employed  to 
supply  more  solid  tunes  than  the  common  airs  of  the  day. 
This  French  hymnal  became  the  standard  in  the  French 
Reformed  churches.  After  Genevan  hands  had  touched  it 
the  papal  gentry  gradually  ceased  to  sing  the  Psalms.  But 
for  years  the  people  clung  to  them.  Papists  ridiculed  ;  one 
of  them  set  to  music  a  French  version  of  the  Odes  of  Hor- 
ace, but  the  popular  contempt  was  his  reward.  Other 
papists  were  in  fear  lest  they  who  made  the  religious  songs 
of  the  nation  would  soon  make  its  laws.  The  historian, 
Florimond  de  Remond,  wrote,  "  The  wise  world,  stujiidly 
wise  in  this,  which  judges  of  things  by  the  outward  appear- 
ance, praised  this  sort  of  amusement,  not  seeing  that  under 
this  chant,  or  rather  new  enchantment,  a  thousand  per- 
nicious novelties  crept  into  their  souls."  But  wits  might 
jeer — the  people  sang  all  the  louder. 

Marot  deserves  another  word.  He  is  not  claimed  to  have 
been  a  saint.  He  was  the  Robert  Burns  of  his  age.  Yet 
it  cannot  be  shown  that  he  was  a  profligate.  Beza  says  of 
him,  "Having  always  been  trained  in  a  very  bad  school, 
and  not  being  able  to  subject  his  life  to  the  Reformation," 
he  left  Geneva.  Out  of  this  has  grown  a  whole  romance 
of  accusations.     Yet  not  a  trace  of  his  leading  a  scandalous 

*  "  Calvin  offers  to  engage  Clement  Marot  to  put  the  Psalms  of 
David  into  French."  Registers  Council  Geneva,  loth  October,  1543. 
That  year  an  edition  of  fifty  Psalms  was  issued  with  a  preface  by  Cal- 
vin. Enlarged  editions  appeared  on  to  the  year  15G3.  Ruchat,  Hist, 
ReJ.  de  la  Suisse. 


A    BISIXG    GENERATION^.  31 

life  is  to  be  found  on  the  records  of  Geneva.  The  fact  is, 
he  was  not  willing;  to  be  a  consistent  Christian.  He  seems 
to  have  died  an  exile  in  Piedmont.  He  not  only  gave  a 
Psalmody  to  the  French  Protestants  but  he  formed  a  new 
school  in  literature.  Schlosser  affirms  that  "  he  combined 
the  pious  and  religious  spirit  of  the  time  with  that  classical 
training  which  was  derived  from  the  convents  and  with  the 
spirit  of  wantonness  which  sprang  from  the  national  litera- 
ture." La  Fontaine  owes  his  reputation  to  his  adoption 
of  Marot's  style.  Hence  his  "Fables"  have  been  read  for  a 
century.* 

It  was,  doubtless,  a  copy  of  ^larot's  Psalms  Avhich  ^Nlont- 
morency  received  when  in  camp.  But  he  was  not  the  man 
to  sing  them.  He  may  have  tossed  the  little  book  aside  to 
fall  into  his  nephew's  hands.  Yet  he  had  a  rigid  devotion 
in  his  way.  Brantome  asserts  that  "he  never  missed  saying 
his  Pater-noslers,  whether  at  home,  on  horseback,  in  camp 
or  on  the  field.  It  was  a  common  saying,  '  God  save  us  from 
the  Pater-noders  of  the  constable.'  For  while  he  muttered 
them,  if  any  disorder  arose  in  the  army  he  would  cry  out  at 
intervals, 'Catch  that  fellow!'  'Hang  that  one  on  a  tree!' 
'Fire  upon  those  rascals,  yonder!'  'Burn  such  a  town!'  all 
without  ceasing  from  his  prayers.  He  thought  it  a  great 
sin  to  omit  them,  so  conscientious  was  he."  This  must  have 
disgusted  his  nephews,  who  witnessed  a  purer  spirit  in  many 
of  those  who  sang  their  praises  with  sincerity. 

It  is  important  for  us  to  know  two  of  Coligny's  young 
friends,  who  were  to  exert  a  powerful  influence  in  shaping 
his  career.  One  of  them  was  heir  to  the  duchy  of  Guise, 
the  other  was  heir  to  the  throne  of  France.  The  first 
would  one  day  become  his  bitterest  enemy,  the  second  would 
open  to  him  the  golden  gate  of  promotion. 

*  Bayle,  Diotioiinairc  et  Qi^nvres ;  Bungener,  Calvhi  sa  Vie,  etc. 
CEiivies  de  .Marot. 


32  ADiMIIlAL    COLIGXY. 

Some  of  the  old  liistoriaiis  liad  in  tlieir  minds  a  pieturo 
of  a  man,  sent  forth  from  hi.s  iiitlicr's  house,  lest  he  should 
take  his  brother's  life  in  order  to  ensure  to  himself  the 
duchy  of  Lorraine,  and  coming  into  France  "with  a  wallet 
and  a  walking-stick,"  to  take  possession  of  the  county  of 
Guise  as  his  inheritance.  This  man  was  Claude,  the  son 
of  Rene,  the  powerful  duke  of  Lorraine.  He  settled  in 
Picardy  in  1513,  mangled  the  French  language  with  his 
German  tongue,  married  the  Bourbon  princess  Antoinette, 
proved  his  valour  in  battle,  laid  schemes  to  make  himself 
equal  to  the  great  barons,  and  claimed  to  be  a  prince  of 
the  blood  on  the  score  that  he  was  descended  from  Godfrey 
the  Crusader,  who  took  Jerusalem,  and  from  Charlemagne, 
the  greatest  of  the  old  emperors,  and,  with  about  as  much 
foundation,  from  Priam  at  Troy.  "He  began  to  grow," 
says  a  chronicler,  who  ridiculed  his  lofty  pretensions,  "by 
crouching  and  capping,  and  double  diligence."  Louis  XII. 
took  him  into  favour,  and  created  for  him  a  new  duchy,  a 
thing  never  done  except  for  a  prince  of  the  blood.  The 
town  of  Guise  on  the  river  Oise,  that  flowed  past  the  birth- 
place of  John  Calvin,  gave  name  to  the  new  duchy  and  to 
the  new  house,  wdiich  was  to  become  the  most  fierce  enemy 
of  the  Huguenots,  and  to  provoke  the  civil  wars  and  the 
massacres  that  reddened  France  with  Christian  blood. 
Picardy  sent  forth  Calvin  as  the  leader  of  the  French  Re- 
formation, and  the  Guises  to  make  Avar  against  it.  The 
two  oldest  sons  of  this  new  house  were  Francis,  the  future 
duke  of  Guise,  and  Charles,  the  future  cardinal  of  Lorraine. 
Both  were  gifted  in  mind,  ambitious  of  power,  crafty  in 
their  schemes,  devoid  of  conscience,  reckless  of  the  means 
they  employed,  and  determined  to  rule  or  ruin. 

Francis  de  Guise  was  about  two  years  younger  than  Gas- 
pard  Coligny.  In  youth  they  were  "boon  companions, 
friends  and  confederates  at  the  court,  wearing  the  same 


A    RISING   GENERATION.  33 

<lrcs>^es,  using  the  same  liveries,  of  tlie  same  parties  in  tour- 
naments and  combats  of  pleasantry,  runnings  at  the  ring 
and  masquerades."  They  enjoyed  eaeh  other's  follies,  and 
consulted  together  when  they  wished  to  be  wise.  Bran- 
tome  further  says  that  Guise  was  "  prodigiously  eloquent, 
and  so  was  Coligny,  but  the  latter  was  the  more  learned  of 
th(!  two  ;  he  understood  and  spoke  Latin  well ;  he  had  both 
studied  and  read ;  always  reading  when  not  engaged  in 
atiiiirs.  Chatillon  was  a  lord  of  honour,  a  man  of  good- 
ness, sage,  mature,  well-advised, politic  and  brave;  a  censor 
and  weigher  of  things,  loving  honour  and  virtue."  This 
literary  courtier  also  says  that  Coligny  and  Guise  were 
"  two  diamonds  of  the  finest  water,  on  the  superior  excel- 
lence of  which  it  is  impossible  to  decide."  Their  portraits 
might  be  taken  for  those  of  two  brothers;  Guise  the  taller 
and  more  commanding;  Coligny  the  more  thoughtful  and 
deliberate;  both  courteous,  naturally  humane  and  popular. 
The  one  was  politic,  ambitious,  even  crafty ;  the  other  was 
artless,  undisguised,  frank  and  open-hearted  ;  his  counte- 
nance was  so  happy  that  none  who  saw  him  failed  to  love 
him.*  The  one  made  religion  subserve  his  own  j)urj)oses  ; 
the  other  served  the  cause  of  religion  with  a  faith  that  was 
heroic,  and  with  aims  that  imparted  a  grandeur  even  to  his 
failures.  The  day  came  when  these  men  were  the  ])0})ular 
champions  of  two  great  parties ;  the  name  of  Guise  being 
the  watchword  of  the  Sorbonnists,  and  that  of  Chatillou 
the  watchword  of  the  Huguenots. 

Prince  Henry,  the  heir  to  the  French  crown,  was  the 
ecjual  of  young  Guise  in  age,  but  far  inferior  in  talent  and 
enterprise.  I  lis  little  Italian  wife,  Catherine,  more  than 
made  up  the  difference.  lie  resembled  Coligny  in  the 
serious  cast  of  his  mind,  l)ut  he  h:id  no  taste  for  learning; 
of  the  arts  he  knew  nothing,  and  if  he  expressed  himself 
*  Courtiltz,  rercaii,  Brantoine,  Vies  de  Coligny. 


34  ADMIRAL    COLTGNY. 

without  fiiltering,  he  merited  a  coiuplinient.  Ilappy  were 
they  who  won  from  him  a  smile.  His  friendship  was  more 
sincere  and  histing  than  that  of  most  princes.  Slow  in 
deciding  upon  a  course  of  action,  he  was  firm  in  his  resolu- 
tions. He  engaged  in  the  chase  and  the  knightly  games  of 
the  age  with  a  zest  that  often  exposed  him  to  danger.  We 
imagine  Coligny  often  attending  him  when  he  rode  to  his 
forest  sports,  sometimes  pursuing  the  stag  for  seven  restless 
hours,  when  horses  fell  exhausted  under  him,  and  when  the 
admiration  of  the  ladies  was  increased  by  their  renewed 
astonishment  at  his  narrow  escapes.* 

Prince  Henry  gave  occasion  for  Coligny  to  make  his 
choice  of  parties  at  the  court  and  afterward  in  the  kingdom. 
King  Francis  had  made  Montmorency  the  constable  of 
France,  but  the  hauglity  warrior  had  not  become  the 
menial  of  his  master.  The  king  sent  Henry  into  Piedmont 
to  make  war  for  mere  effect;  the  constable  sent  forward 
the  best  troops  to  make  war  in  earnest  and  win  victories. 
The  young  prince  was  a  conqueror;  he  brought  home  a,- 
brilliant  reputation,  and  acknowledged  that  he  owed  it  to 
Montmorency.  The  king  had  been  foiled  in  his  policy. 
He  threw  the  blame  on  the  constable,  saying  to  him,  "  You 
are  not  content  to  be  my  agent ;  you  would  be  king  your- 
self" The  enmity  increased :  two  crafty  women  had  a 
hand  in  making  it  intolerable. 

The  devotion  of  Prince  Henry  to  Diana  of  Poitiers  is 
too  strange  for  fiction,  but  too  important  to  be  overlooked 
as  a  fact.  She  was  old  enough  to  be  his  mother,  and  shrewd 
enough  to  counsel  him  as  a  son.     It  seems  strange  that  she 

t  Civil  Wars  and  Monarchy  in  France,  by  Leopold  Ranke.  Think 
of  lliis  hunting  l)n.<ine3s,  when  Charles  IX.  used  up  5000  dogs  and 
brolce  the  wind  of  all  his  horses,  valued  at  30,000  francs!  Francis  I. 
had  expended  150,000  dollars,  yearly,  on  horse?,  hounds,  falcons  and 
cha-sseurs. —  Von  Raumer. 


A    RISING    GENERATION.  35 

should  have  the  credit  of  rousini;  Henry  to  activity  and 
of  preventint^  Catherine  from  l)eing  divorced  and  .«ent 
back  to  Italy.  She  Avas  .soon  in  collision  with  the  Duchess 
(r]Ctani])es,  and  the  fjuarrels  of  two  bad  women  divided  the 
court  into  two  ])artie.s.  ]Montmorency  sided  with  Henry, 
and  his  ihll  was  determined.  Coligny  followed  his  uncle, 
but  maintained  the  honour  of  the  neglected  Catharine  de 
.Medici — a  fact  that  .she  ought  never  to  have  forgotten. 

Stranger  still  was  the  power  of  these  two  rival  mistresses 
over  the  religious  parties.  Diana,  very  devout  in  the  Rom- 
ish way,  hated  the  I'rotestants.  At  her  word  they  were 
burned.  ]>y  her  minions  they  were  plundered,  and  she 
grew  immensely  rich.  They  said  of  her,  "For  twelve  years 
an  old  woman  kept  heaven  so  close  that  not  a  drop  of  jus- 
tice fell  on  France,  except  by  stealth."  The  bells  were 
taxed  to  build  her  a  splendid  palace.  The  young  Duch&ss 
d'Etampes  was  rather  the  medium  of  mercy.  To  her,  po(U' 
victims  appealed,  or  gospel-loving  priests  begged  her  inter- 
cessions. She  whispered  in  the  royal  ear,  and  the  cruelties 
Avere  lessened.  It  was  her  policy.  Sounder  convictions 
were  wrought  in  her  soul  at  a  later  day.  She  inllanicd  llie 
king  against  Montmorency. 

The  king  vented  his  anger  upon  Montmorency  on  an- 
other score.  He  had  asked  the  emperor  for  !Milan,  ac- 
cording to  a  late  treaty.  "I  promised  nothing  of  the  sort," 
was  the  rejily.  Tlicrc  was  no  paper  to  show  it.  Still, 
Francis  had  granted  Charles  liberty  to  pass  through  his 
realm.  The  king's  jester  had  written  on  his  tablet,  "The 
emptror  Charles  is  more  of  a  fool  than  I  am,  for  venturing 
to  pass  through  France."  The  king  asked,  "  But  if  I 
])romised  him  safety,  what  then?"  "Then  I  would  erase 
his  name  and  insert  yours."  Several  people  had  the  same 
secret  tliought  as  this  buffoon,  says  the  Abbe  Millot,  but 
he  alone  had  the  privilege  of  speaking  it.     Charles  made 


3^  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

his  journey.  But  Milan  was  not  given  over  to  the  French, 
and  Montmorency  was  doomed.  He  now  showed  his  utter 
ingratitude  to  his  truest  friend,  Margaret,  who  had  secured 
for  him  the  office  of  constable  of  France.  He  revealed  his 
hatred  of  Protestantism.  Probably  Diana  had  incited  him, 
or  had  that  psaltery  "in  parchment"  offended  him? 

"  If  you  really  wish  to  root  heresy  out  of  your  kingdom," 
said  Montmorency,  "you  must  begin  at  your  court,  and  take 
in  hand  some  who  are  your  near  relatives."  "What?" 
"You  must  make  an  example  of  your  sister  Margaret." 

Francis  was  touched  :  "  Ah  !  you  would  send  her  to  the 
stake!  Never,  sir.  I  will  not  have  her  name  mentioned. 
She  loves  me  too  well  to  believe  a  creed  which  I  do  not  be- 
lieve, or  which  would  injure  the  welfare  of  my  realm." 
Margaret  heard  of  this  baseness.  She  wrote  no  more  letters 
to  "my  nephew"  (1538).  It  was  another  sign  of  the  close 
line  being  drawn  between  the  old  popery  and  the  new  Re- 
form, 

Some  time  later,  Margaret's  daughter  Jeanne,  a  child  of 
thirteen,  was  to  go  through  the  form  of  a  betrothal  to  the 
Duke  of  Cleves.  She  protested  by  words,  by  a  vigorous 
pen  and  on  oath — all  in  vain.  The  day  came.  The  pro- 
cession was  marching  to  the  church,  but  it  was  noticed  that 
Montmorency  was  not  in  his  usual  place  bearing  the 
sword  of  state  before  the  king.  Jeanne  was  sinking  under 
illness  and  the  weight  of  robes  and  jewels.  The  king  had 
intendefl  to  support  his  niece,  but  he  ordered  the  proud 
constable,  who  had  nearly  all  the  reins  of  government  in 
his  hands,  to  take  her  iu  his  arms  and  carry  her  to  the 
altar.  The  courtiers  were  amazed  at  the  indignity.  He 
obeyed,  but  he  muttered,  "  Adieu  to  my  honours !"  The 
formal  ceremony  of  marriage  was  enacted,  and  Jeanne  and 
Cleves  separated  for  ever.  Montmorency  was  soon  deprived 
of  all  his  offices  except  that  of  constable,  which  could  not 


A    RISING    GENEUATIO.V.  37 

be  taken  away.  He  retired  to  Chantilly,  waiting  for  an- 
other king  who  would  know  him.  Prince  Henry  saved  him 
and  the  ChatiHons.  He  loved  Montmorency  and  held  him 
as  a  counsellor.  Every  day  letters  passed  between  them. 
Coligny  may  have  frequently  been  the  willing  messenger 
when  absent  from  the  field  of  war.  In  this  he  had  the 
confidence  of  Francis  of  Guise.  It  is  important  to  mark 
the  friendship  existing  at  this  jjeriod  between  these  young 
inen,  on  whom  so  much  of  the  future  depended.  The  hu- 
man heart  is  a  mystery ;  the  ardent  love  of  to-day  may  be 
changed  to  the  most  revengeful  hatred  to-morrow. 

"  The  life  of  M.  de  Chatillon,"  .says  one  of  his  first  biog- 
raphers, "  was  so  linked  with  that  of  his  king  that  it  is 
difficult  to  treat  of  the  one  without  the  other."  On  the 
journeys  of  Francis  I.,  Coligny  rides  in  the  train ;  when 
important  letters  are  to  be  carried  to  ofticers  of  state  or  the 
army,  he  is  the  messenger ;  when  the  people  of  La  Rochelle 
are  about  to  revolt,  he  bears  a  part  in  pei-suading  them  to 
pay  their  taxes  and  be  quiet ;  when  the  siege  is  laid  against 
an  important  town,  he  is  seen  in  the  trenches ;  and  when  a 
village  is  sacked  by  rapacious  soldiers,  he  is  conspicuous  as 
the  ]>rotect()r  of  frightened  women  who  beg  for  honour  and 
life.  At  the  age  of  twenty-six  he  entered  fully  upon  the 
profession  of  arms.  Pages  might  be  written  upon  the  con- 
spicuous part  borne  by  him  in  the  battle-fields  of  Italy, 
Lorraine,  Flanders  and  Northern  France.  He  represented 
that  vigorous  nobility  which  was  to  adopt  the  Reform  at 
the  moment  of  its  saddest  depression. 

The  first  account  of  a  wound  received  by  Coligny  almost 
provokes  a  smile.  It  wa.s  in  the  siege  of  IMontmedi.  Noth- 
ing could  prevent  him  from  running  the  greatest  risks,  for 
"lie  was  eager  to  learn  liis  trade,  and  was  in  tlie  trenches 
every  hour."  A  musket-ball  riddiecl  his  hat,  and  young 
GuifC  (Prince  de  Joinvillej  asked,  "Are  you  wounded?" 
Vol..  I.— 1 


i^^^  jno 


88  ADAIIUAL    C()1.[(JNY. 

"I  think  I  am,"  was  the  cool  reply.  Guise,  who  was  "a 
novice  in  this  sort  of  thing,"  was  aftlicted  beyond  measure. 
"  It  is  no  great  matter,"  said  Coligny  ;  "  and  yet  it  might 
have  been.  The  trade  we  drive  ought  to  accustom  us  lo 
deatli,  as  well  as  to  life.  The  soldier  should  live  as  one 
who  is  likely  to  be  cut  down  in  a  moment.  Life  is  brief  at 
most,  and  to  die  twenty  years  sooner  or  twenty  years  later 
ought  to  be  indifferent  to  one  who  is  prepared  for  it."* 
Such  was  the  high  toae  of  the  young  man  in  whose  hands 
God  would  soon  place  the  destinies  of  the  Reformation. 

The  perils  of  battle  had  a  charm  for  Coligny.  To  be 
denied  a  part  in  a  siege  was  to  him  an  adversity.  When 
serving  with  Francis  of  Guise,  then  a  lieutenant  under  the 
Duke  of  Orleans,  an  attack  was  to  be  made  against  the 
walls  of  Luxemburg.f  The  greater  the  wound  the  greater 
the  honour,  thought  the  young  lord  of  Chatillon,  expecting 
to  take  his  place  in  the  trenches.  But  to  his  grief  he  was 
summoned  by  Montmorency  to  Chantilly.  He  dared  not 
disobey,  "  although  he  had  all  the  passion  in  the  world  to 
be  present  at  a  siege  so  remarkable."  He  kneAV  that  his 
great  uncle  loved  him  as  one  of  his  own  sons,  but  he  did 
not  suspect  the  object  of  the  call  was  to  deliver  him  from 
peril,  He  made  a  speedy  journey,  and  found  that  he  had 
been  summoned  on  the  pretext  of  "a  family  affair  of  the 

*  Perau,  Brantomo,  Conrtiltz. 

f  The  Frcnc'li  policy  of  making  a  new  administration  popular  by  a 
vigorous  war  had  been  adopted.  The  new  ministers  reversed  the 
measures  of  Montmorency.  They  strengthened  the  forces  against 
Flanders  and  Brabant,  and  sent  forth  three  additional  armies:  one 
under  the  brave  William  du  Bellay,  against  Milan ;  a  second  under 
the  Duke  of  Orleans,  against  Luxemburg;  and  a  third  under  Prince 
Ileiiry  and  the  new  admiral,  Annebaut,  into  Dauphiny.  If  the  first 
two  had  failed,  Montmorency  would  scarcely  liave  shed  tears;  he  espe- 
cially was  not  anxious  for  the  success  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  the 
favourite  of  the  party  which  exulted  in  his  disgrace. 


A    RISING   GENERATION.  39 

last  consequence."  lie  bitterly  complained  of  his  trcat- 
UKiit.  "It  wa.s  to  save  you  from  extraordinary  danger," 
said  Montmorency,  whose  favouritism  appeared  coutempt- 
ible  to  his  nephew. 

"I  thank  you  for  your  care  of  me,"  replied  Coligny, 
"but  still  think  your  tenderness  out  of  season.  It  hinders 
me  from  my  duty  to  my  country.  I  entreat  you  to  send  me 
back  to  the  ranks."  Pressed  by  these  entreaties,  Montmo- 
rency yielded,  although  he  held  himself  in  lieu  of  a  father, 
and  was  loth  to  let  him  depart.  'We  next  find  our  young 
hero  ])raving  every  danger  in  the  siege  of  Bains.  Wounded 
in  the  throat  by  a  musket-ball,  he  was  forced  by  his  com- 
mander to  retire  from  the  scene  of  death.  Special  orders 
were  given  to  the  surgeon,  who  came  with  all  haste,  won- 
dered that  he  was  not  dead,  seemed  more  affrighted  at  the 
wound  than  the  wounded  man  himself,  and  wasted  time  in 
exclamations  and  long-drawn  sighs.  His  compassion  was  a 
mere  emotion  :  it  was  not  a  motive  impelling  him  to  do 
<|uickly  what  was  needed  to  save  the  life  of  a  brave  soldier. 
"These  grimaces  may  comfort  some  people,"  said  Coligny, 
"but  for  me  they  are  not  all  necessary.  If  you  wish  to 
save  your  reputation,  give  me  relief  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Do  you  take  me  for  an  impostor?"  replied  the  sur- 
geon, with  brutal  haughtiness,  and  beginning  to  put  up  his 
instruments.  "If  so,  I  will  aid  those  who  have  confidence 
in  me."  It  is  easy  to  imagine  how  provoking  this  conduct 
was  to  a  man  who  was  bleeding  to  death,  and  whom  the 
wliole  army  regarded  as  in  great  danger  ;  but  he  was  insen- 
sible to  the  insult,  overlooking  the  brutality  of  the  surgeon. 
He  apologized,  his  wound  was  dressed,  and  for  only  ten 
days  he  kept  his  tent.  Against  the  protest  of  his  officers, 
he  then  took  the  field  once  more,  and  in  the  cavalry  service 
won  new  honours. 

The  king  admired  brave  men,  and  chose  Coligny  for  the 


40  ADMIRAL   COLIGXY. 

work  of  quelling  a  diistnrbance  in  the  soutli-west.  The 
people  of  La  Kochelle  refused  to  pay  certain  taxes ;  the 
king  resolved  to  collect  them  with  his  cavalry.  When  the 
tramp  of  such  revenue  officers  was  heard  in  the  distance 
the  city  was  filled  with  alarms.  The  spirit  of  revolt  began 
to  subside.  The  citizens  remembered  the  Marshal  de  Cha- 
tillon,  who  had  held  important  relations  with  them,  and 
they  sent  a  deputy  to  the  son,  asking  him  to  intercede  for 
them  with  the  king.  "  Bring  letters  from  your  authorities," 
said  Coligny.     "  Let  us  know  your  conditions  of  peace." 

The  messenger  was  returning  for  the  letters  when  he  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  advance  guard  and  was  led  as  a  spy 
before  the  king.  When  questioned,  he  stated  that  he  was 
acting  under  the  instructions  of  Coligny.  At  this  the  en- 
emies of  Montmorency  and  his  nephews  were  ready  to  cry, 
"  Treason !  Let  the  ambitious  Chatillon  be  arrested.  Is 
he  a  prince  of  the  blood  ?"  Thus  early  in  his  career  was 
jealousy  marking  him  as  a  victim. 

The  king,  less  suspicious  of  a  plot,  drew  Coligny  aside, 
and  gladly  learned  that  the  young  officer  had  acted  from 
the  noblest  of  motives,  and  that  the  rebels  were  coming  to 
a  better  mind.  The  army  advanced  within  a  mile  of  the 
gates,  and  the  chief  citizens  hurried  forth  with  entreaties 
for  peace.  Speeches  were  made ;  terms  Avex-e  offijred. 
"  Speak  no  more  of  revolt,"  said  Francis  I.  "  Forget  it 
all  as  I  do.  Ring  all  your  bells,  for  you  are  pardoned. 
Take  back  the  keys  of  your  gates.  I  see  none  here  but  my 
children ;  in  me  you  behold  a  father.  ]\Iy  rival  [the  em- 
peror Charles  V.]  may  spill  the  blood  of  his  unfortunate 
subjects  of  Ghent;  it  is  a  pleasure  worthy  of  him.  But 
my  delight  is  to  recover  the  hearts  of  my  people." 

Some  blamed,  others  praised  the  king  for  this  clemency. 
Coligny  said  to  him,  "  You  have  not  only  secured  the  loy- 
alty of  the  people,  but  you  have  made  your  fame  immortal." 


A    UlSING    GKNKli.V  rio.V.  41 

Tlie  young  chief  liad  won  equal  favour,  and  in  tlie  day 
ulien  lie  would  need  a  refuge  La  Kochelle  would  give  him 
welcome. 

News  came  that  the  army  in  Italy  was  in  danger.  "  Send 
me  to  the  front,"  was  the  urgent  request  of  Coligny.  He 
took  the  first  post,  followed  by  the  host  of  courtiers,  so  that 
the  palace  was  quite  deserted.  Andelot  was  among  them. 
They  all  pushed  on,  riding  down  horses,  breaking  down 
coaches,  and  overcoming  other  difficulties  by  "  the  force  of 
silver."  At  Cerisola  the  armies  measured  their  strength. 
Young  Enghien  (a  Bourbon)  had  the  command  of  the 
I^'rench.  He  saw  the  Spaniards  cutting  to  pieces  his  cen- 
tral column.  He  had  brought  on  the  battle  contrary  to 
the  king's  order.  How  bitter  would  be  defeat  and  reproach ! 
He  placed  his  sword  so  that  he  might  ftiU  upon  it  and  die. 
But  just  then  some  straggling  horsemen  told  him  that  there 
was  victory  along  the  line.  The  Spanish  commander  had 
fled.  The  result  was  largely  due  to  Coligny  and  his  brother. 
They  and  other  young  heroes  were  knighted  on  the  field. 
After  farther  service,  Coligny  returned  to  Paris  with  the 
rank  of  colonel. 

The  garrison  at  J>()ul()gnc  mu.-t  bo  relieved.  Young  cav- 
aliers went  sweeping  on  to  the  straits  of  Dover.  They 
looked  for  the  French  signal  on  the  walls ;  they  saw  the 
J'^nglish  fiag.  The  governor  of  the  town  had  struck  his 
colours  and  let  in  the  enemy.  A  few  movements,  a  raking 
fire,  a  bold  charge,  the  crashing  down  of  a  gate  and  a  small 
man  was  riding  into  the  lower  part  of  the  town  at  the  head 
of  the  best  drilled  regiment  in  France.  He  was  Coligny, 
shouting,  "  On,  now,  to  the  heights.  Drive  out  the  English. 
The  darkness  will  hel|)  us."  The  higher  officers  opposed  : 
"  It  is  too  dark.  Frit'ud  caiuiot  be  told  from  foe."  Tlieir 
counsel  prevailed  afler  Coligny  had  put  more  than  six  hun- 
dred men  into  the  place.     Winter  was  coming,  and  he  was 

4* 


42  ADMIRAL    COTJGXY. 

left  to  maintain  the  siege.  In  one  engagement  young  Guise 
Avas  struck  in  the  fiice  with  a  lance  which  passed  through 
from  one  side  to  the  otlicr.  Coligny  Avas  in  distress.  He 
brouglit  in  Ambrose  Pare,  "  the  father  of  French  surgery," 
■who  was  then  a  student  of  the  Bible.  The  lance  was 
drawn  from  the  head  of  Guise  in  a  way  that  makes  one 
shudder  to  read  of  it.  It  was  like  tearing  up  a  small  tree 
by  the  roots,  and  performed  in  a  manner  quite  similar. 
Yet  the  hero  scarcely  groaned.  His  recovery  seemed  a 
miracle,  adding  to  the  fame  of  Pare.  The  warrior  gained 
the  title  of  Le  Balafre — the  scar-covered. 

Pending  the  siege  the  peace  of  Crespy  was  signed  (1544), 
between  King  Francis  and  the  Emperor  Charles.  The 
long  wars  were  to  cease,  but  the  work  of  bloodshedding  was 
to  take  another  form.  The  pope  had  been  anxious  for 
peace,  so  that  these  great  monarchs  might  employ  the 
vigour  of  their  last  days  against  the  Protestants.  They 
secretly  engaged  to  destroy  "heresy"  in  their  respective  do- 
minions— an  agreement  not  to  be  forgotten. 

Papal  writers  never  weary  of  repeating  that  Francis  I. 
gently  treated  the  Reform  in  its  infancy.  "It  was  his  fate," 
says  one,  "  to  befriend  the  enemies  of  religion,"  True,  he 
favoured  the  Renaissance.  He  invited  scholars  to  Paris. 
He  begged  INIelancthon  to  come.  He  maintained  learned 
professors  in  the  colleges.  But  yet  he  drove  away  scholars 
who  advocated  the  new  doctrines.  It  has  been  said,  "  Had 
Lutheran  ism  made  its  way  into  France,  as  it  had  in  Eng- 
land, it  might  have  been  tolerated ;  but  Calvinism  roused 
at  once  the  king,  the  court,  the  prelates,  nobles  and 
legists."*  We  do  not  believe  a  word  of  it.  Our  proof  is 
that  hundreds  of  men  were  sent  to  the  stake  under  the 
name  of  "  Lutherans."  Indeed,  the  fires  were  kept  burn- 
ing for  those  who  held  a  still  milder  form  of  doctrine — those 
*  Crowe,  History  of  France ;  Fronde,  passim. 


A    RISIXfl    OENHKATIO.V.  43 

ulio  lolluwcd  the  qufin  (tl'  Miivarrc,  iiud  wliosc  moLto  was, 
"  A  reform  iu  tlie  Roman  Church,  and  not  a  new  Church 
outside  of  the  old  pale."  It  was  the  very  fact  of  heresy, 
and  not  the  mei'C  form  of  it,  that  lay  heavy  on  the  royul 
heart.  xSot  a  man,  woman  or  child  was  safe  when  a  Bible 
was  found  in  the  house. 

Francis  had  a  pride  in  his  college.?.  But  mark  the  re- 
port of  the  Venetian  envoy  Cavalli  :*  "The  university 
may  uund)er  some  twelve  thousand  or  sixteen  thousand 
.scholars,  of  whom,  however,  many  live  iu  poverty.  The 
salaries  of  the  professors  are  very  small  and  their  duties 
very  extensive ;  yet  they  crowd  to  Paris,  because  of  the 
lionour  of  teaching  there.  The  professoi-s  of  the  Sorbonne 
have  the  unlimited  right  of  chastising  heretics,  and  cause 
them  to  be  burnt  alive,  little  by  little."  And  on  these 
burnings  Francis  gazed  with  the  utmost  comj)osurc! 

Nor  was  it  enough  that  four  thousand  people  sliuuld  die 
by  private  martyrdoms  during  his  reign.  There  must  be  a 
wholesale  devastation.  When  Francis  was  thought  to  be 
dying.  Cardinal  Tournou  said  to  him,  "  Your  suHc'rings  are 
a  judgment  from  God;  you  must  propitiate  Heaven  by 
destroying  the  heretics."  The  word  went  forth.  "  Thick 
grass  is  more  easily  mown  than  thin,"  was  the  i)itliy  saying 
of  Alaric,  and  this  policy  led  Francis  to  choose  the  Wal- 
denses  of  Daui)hiny  for  an  example.  The  brigands,  under 
Oppide,  were  let  loose  upon  the  towns  and  villages.  None 
were  spared.  Even  papists  were  slaughtered  for  living 
(juietly  among  Protestants. 

One  poor  idiot,  amid  the  sacking,  burning  and  butchery 
at  Merindol,  held  out  his  hand  to  a  soldier  and  said,  "These 
two  crowns  for  my  life."  He  alone  was  left.  Oppide  heard 
of  it,  arrested  the  idiot  and  had  him  shot,  saying,  "I  know 
how  to  treat  these  people.  I  will  send  them,  children  and 
*  A.  D.  1547,  Von  Rauuier,  Orig.  Doc. 


44  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

all,  to  live  in  hell !"  Other  towns  were  tlms  stricken  from 
the  map  of  France.  A  witness  wi'ote,  "  I  saw  in  one  church 
between  four  and  five  hundred  poor  w'omen  and  children 
butchered."  A  barn  filled  with  refugees  was  burned. 
Some  fled  into  caves ;  they  were  suffocated  by  the  smoke 
of  fires  kindled  at  the  entrances.  Twenty-two  towns  and 
villages  were  utterly  destroyed,  and  the  silence  of  deso- 
lation has  long  hung  over  a  district  that  once  resounded 
with  the  songs  of  harmless  shepherds  and  the  ring  of  clieer- 
ful  industry.* 

All  this,  and  much  more,  ten  years  before  there  was  any 
organic  "Calvinism"  in  France.  The  heresy  was  called 
by  other  names,  however  erroneous  the  terms.  A  sweeping 
edict  went  forth  against  the  so-called  "Lutherans"  in  the 
south-west.  Calvin  was  intensely  at  work,  but  the  perse- 
cuted were  not  recognized  as  his  followers.  It  was  not, 
then,  his  name,  his  system,  his  organism  or  his  spirit  that 
"provoked  the  edicts  of  persecution."  Even  before  he  for- 
sook the  Roman  Church  there  was  the  same  fiery  diligence 
employed  against  free  thought  and  pure  worship. 

True,  there  was  a  "Calvinism"  in  France,  but  it  was 
secret.  It  passed  under  other  names.  It  wanted  consoli- 
dation, a  form,  a  church,  a  discipline.  Its  adherents  gen- 
erally clung  to  the  papal  organization.  They  were  new 
vines  in  the  old  vineyards,  waiting  to  be  transplanted.  They 
met  in  secret.  If  a  minister  ventured  among  them,  he  must 
be  kept  hidden.  They  could  not  depend  upon  the  minis- 
trations of  the  papal  clergy,  except  the  few  who  were  brav- 
ing death  and  feeding  the  flock  with  the  truth.  "Many  of 
the  priests  are  so  ignorant,"  says  a  chronicler,  "that  they  can 
neither  read  nor  write ;  so  lazy,  that  they  have  left  off* 
preaching  altogether.  They  spend  most  of  the  day  in 
taverns,  drinking  and  gambling."  What  they  did  at  night 
*  De  Tliou,  Mezeray,  Capefigue. 


A   KISING    GENERATION.  45 

is  too  al)onniia])le  for  our  pages.  !Many  in  these  flocks 
sought  greener  pastures.  "  They  assembled  in  fields,  gar- 
dens, barns,  no  matter  where.  .  .  .  Their  preachers  were 
butchers,  bricklayers,  publicans,  and  other  venerable  d(iC- 
tiirs  of  that  sort,"  is  the  satiric  description  of  an  old  writer. 
But  the  night  was  the  time  usually  chosen  for  their  meet- 
ings. Then  the  labourers  liad  leisure,  and  the  darkness 
was  their  shield.  Great  mystery  was  used  in  giving  the 
summons ;  a  boy  went  whistling  through  the  streets,  or  a 
man  carried  a  lantern  of  peculiar  shape,  or  a  thread  hung 
I'rom  a  window.  They  crept  to  the  place,  with  muffled 
voices  sang  their  psalms,  and  then  gave  heed  to  the 
Scriptures. 

In  higher  quarters  the  same  caution  must  be  used. 
Among  the  secret  believers  at  court  was  the  mother  of 
Coligny.  She  saw  her  sons  giving  promise  of  distinction. 
When  dying,  in  1547,  she  refused  the  presence  of  a  Romish 
])riest,  saying,  "God  lias  given  me  the  grace  of  fearing  and 
loving  him ;  in  his  hands  I  am  safe."  Often  were  the 
Psalmist's  words  on  her  lips,  when  she  thought  of  her  fa- 
therless sons;  "His  mercy  is  from  generation  to  generation 
unto  them  that  fear  him  " — a  hope  not  entertained  in  vain.* 

*  Vila  Colinii. 


CHAPTER    II. 

JPROMOTIOXS    AJS^J)    I'JtOfJECTS. 
(134.r~15.5G.) 

'TT.THEN  the  young  Duke  of  Orleans  was  dying,  and 

*  T  foes  were  threatening  the  kingdom,  Francis  I.  walked 
to  the  window  and  cried,  "  O  my  God  ;  thou  hast  already 
smitten  me  in  dimini.shing  my  power,  and  now  thou  takest 
away  my  son.  AVhat  remains  but  that  thou  shouldst  de- 
stroy me  altogether?"  Once  more  he  turned  from  indul- 
gence to  devotion;  again  he  recognized  the  hand  of  God. 
It  was  a  specimen  of  the  soi"t  of  fitful  piety  then  prevailing 
among  the  royal  favourites.  His  son  was  laid  in  the  tomb, 
and  from  that  day  the  king  was  of  a  sad  countenance.  A 
fever  was  consuming  his  life.  By  rapid  changes  of  abode, 
he  sought  rest,  but  found  it  not.  Coligny  was  one  of  his 
faithful  attendants. 

Beseiged  by  courtesans  and  priests,  the  king  was  dying 
at  Rambouillet  in  1547,  at  the  age  of  fifty-two  years. 
Feeble  was  the  regret  of  the  Romanists,  who  re})roached 
him  for  not  having  done  enough  for  the  Church,  and  thought 
that  he  had  erred  in  attempting  to  make  himself  "  the  father 
of  letters ; "   still  less  was  the  regret  of  the  Protestants,* 

*  The  use  of  the  term  Protestanfs  is  of  a  later  date  in  France,  where, 
indeed,  it  never  became  popular.  A  succession  of  terms  was  em- 
ployed—  Tjutherans,  Sncramentarian!<,  ChristatuUns,  then  Calvinists,  Hu- 
guenots, llelir/ionaries,  Those  of  the  Religion.  They  called  themselves 
Gospellers,  The  Faithful,  The  Reformed.  They  were  not  strictly  the 
followers  of  Luther,  but  of  Lefevre,  Fare!  and  Calvin. 

46 


TKOMOTIONS    AM)    IMJOJECTS,  47 

whom  lie  had  sometimes  treated  with  mildness,  and  some- 
times persecuted  with  severity.  The  Dauphin  Henry  came 
to  his  side,  to  hear  his  father's  last  advice,  but  not  in  a 
spirit  to  follow  it.  The  dying  counsels  were  to  this  cflect: 
"  Do  not  recall  ]Montmorency  ;  allow  him  to  hold  no  office 
in  the  state.  Retain  my  ministers,  Cardinal  Tournon*  and 
Admiral  Annel)aut.  Cheek  the  ambition  of  the  Guises. 
Reduce  the  taxes.  Make  your  reign  jxipular.  Above  all, 
do  not  favour  ^[ontmorency  ;  never,  never  recall  ^Montmo- 
rcncy." 

Never  was  l)roath  more  vainly  spent.  As  soon  as  the 
king  was  dead,  Henry  proceeded  to  give  no  heed  whatever 
to  his  father's  instructions.  He  dismissed  most  of  the  offi- 
cers of  state.  Calling  to  him  his  valiant  young  friend 
Coiigny,  he  ordered  him  to  send  for  his  uncle.  Andelot 
rode  post-haste  with  the  message.  Another  account  is,  that 
Henry  sent  a  different  courier,  but  Coiigny,  anxious  to  bear 
the  glad  tidings,  mounted  his  liorse  and  was  the  first  to 
reach  Chantilly.t  ^lontmorency  shed  tears  of  grief  at  the 
tidings  of  his  master's  death,  and  then  retired  to  offer 
prayers  for  the  repose  of  his  soul.  It  was  characteristic  of 
the  veteran  warrior  to  be  strict  in  the  services  of  his  devo- 
tion. Then  mounting  a  swift  horse,  he  rode  with  all  speed 
to  the  palace  of  St.  (Jernjain,  where  Henry  had  a|)j)ointed 
to  meet  him.     For  two  hours  they  were  eloseted  together, 

*  About  ten  years  previous  Calvin  had  written  tlio  famous  dedica- 
tion of  his  Institutes  to  Francis  I.  It  was  one  of  the  most  powerful 
pleas  for  toleration  ever  penned.  Cardinal  Tournon  told  the  kinp; 
tliat  suoh  a  letter  was  an  outrage  on  his  majesty  and  on  the  religion  of 
his  fatliers.  It  was  he  who  instigated  the  fierce  persecutions  against 
the  Keformed.  To  pray  in  the  French  language  was  declared  a 
crime,  and  to  convei"se  in  secret  a  cause  for  arrest,  l>y  this  favourite 
minister  of  state. 

t  I'erau,  Vic  de  Coiigny. 


48  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

and  they  tin-an*fcd  their  })lans.  The  new  king  paid  him 
every  honour  and  reinstated  him  in  all  his  former  offices. 
Again  was  the  constable  made  grand-master  of  the  palace, 
minister  of  finance  and  chief  counsellor.  Not  content  with 
such  public  marks  of  affection,  Henry  insisted  upon  paying 
him  all  the  salaries  which  were  due  from  his  lost  offices,  but 
Montmorency  replied:  "Sir,  it  is  not  just  that  I  should 
receive  rewards,  when  I  have  as  yet  performed  for  you  no 
labour.  All  I  ask  is  a  loan  equal  to  two  years'  service." 
Still  Henry  persisted,  and  paid  to  the  constable  one  hun- 
dred thousand  golden  crowns.  What  could  have  rendered 
Coligny's  prospects  more  bright  than  the  restoration  of  his 
uncle  and  the  friendship  of  his  king?  And  who  was  the 
actual  king  but  Montmorency?  The  sentiments  of  Henry 
toward  this  imperious  baron  were  those  of  a  scholar  who 
looks  upon  his  master  with  awe.  The  school  of  politics  was 
in  a  turbulent  state ;  a  strong  hand  was  needed  to  bring 
order  out  of  the  chaos  which  gallantry,  rivalry  and  selfish- 
ness had  produced.  The  young  monarch  threw  the  burden 
upon  Montmorenc)'-,  and  at  his  frown  the  court  trembled. 
In  the  cabinet  there  was  a  riddance  of  that  craftiness  whose 
object  was  to  bring  France  under  the  power  of  Rome  and 
of  Spain.  Whatever  the  faults  of  the  constable,  he  had 
the  virtue  of  patriotism.  He  was  a  true  Frenchman.  The 
women's  faction  Avas  broken  up,  by  giving  Diana  full  sweep 
and  sending  the  Duchess  d'Etampes  into  seclusion,  where 
she  seems  to  have  repented  of  her  sins  and  adoiDted  the 
teachings  of  Calvin.  She  had  used  her  great  influence 
over  Francis  I.  to  win  favour  for  the  Protestants.  She  was 
permitted  to  "  profess  the  Keformed  religion "  in  her  own 
house  publicly.*  Her  sister,  Madame  de  Cany,  became  an 
ornament  of  the  Reformation. f     The  whole  troop  of  ladies 

*  Vie  de  Coligny. 

f  Calvin's  Letters,  ccxxxii.,  ccxl.,  ccxcii.,  cccxix.,  etc. 


PROMOTIONS   AND    PROJECTS.  49 

would  liavc  been  bani.-^lied  if  Ileury  had  not  opposed.  The 
crowd  of  prelates  at  the  court  was  reduced.  Only  five  of 
the  twelve  cardinals  were  retained,  Odet  of  Chatillon  being 
one  of  them.  It  was  the  fashion  of  the  times  to  adopt 
classic  models :  that  of  young  Guise  was  Scipio ;  that  of 
Montmorency  was  Cato  the  Censor.  In  two  respects  his 
imitation  was  no  failure:  he  was  rude  in  his  censures  upon 
evcrylxKly ;  he  was  so  avaricious  that  a  generous  impulse 
would  have  amazed  his  friends.  Coligny  was  not  likely  to 
err  from  want  of  severe  correction,  nor  to  be  ruined  by  a 
surplus  of  spending-money ;  not  so  long  as  his  uncle  took 
the  oversight  of  his  morals  and  his  revenues. 

The  recall  of  iMontmorency  has  been  regarded  as  an 
unwise  and  unfortunate  policy.  Varillas  declares,  "  If 
Henry  II.  had  not  restored  the  Constable  IMontmorency,  he 
had  not  been  obliged,  in  order  to  retrieve  himself,  to  give 
up  one  hundred  and  ninety-eight  towns  or  fortresses,  and 
almost  as  much  country  as  would  make  one-third  of 
France."*  But  there  is  another  side  of  the  case.  There 
is  something  more  valuable  than  fortresses  and  territory : 
it  is  national  independence ;  it  is  freedom  from  a  foreign 
yoke ;  it  is  the  averting  of  a  religious  despotism.  France 
might  aflbrd  to  yield  up  some  towns  to  get  rid  of  a  Cardinal 
Tournon  and  the  agents  of  the  emperor.  True,  Rome  and 
Spain  would  send  others  to  weave  their  nets,  but  one  crisis 
was  past  when  Montmorency  became  master.  The  Spanish 
Inquisition  was  not  then  introduced  into  France. 

And  yet  the  haughty  baron  was  far  from  being  a  reformer. 
The  funeral  of  the  late  king  was  delayed  almost  a  month, 
and  he  thought  all  the  pomp  of  burial  worthy  of  the  man 
who  had  made  heresy  a  crime  and  a  terror.  He  must  have 
shaken  his  head  at  hearing  the  eulogy  of  the  bishop  of 
Mayon,  in  his  funeral  oration:  "After  so  holy  a  life,"  said 
*  Varilla-;,  Hist,  du  E^gne  de  Henri  II. 
Vol.  I. — 5 


50  ADMIKAL    COI.IGNY. 

the  preaclicr  (and  what  unmeant  irony!},  "  the  soul  of  the 
king  was  at  once  transplanted  to  heaven,  without  passing 
through  the  flames  of  purgatory." 

The  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  were  astounded.  "  lie  is  a 
secret  heretic,"  they  exclaimed.  "  He  denies  purgatory." 
They  went  to  Saint  Germain  to  make  their  complaint  in 
the  royal  ear.  Henry  was  absent,  but  the  master  of  the 
palace  listened  to  them,  and  said  with  all  courtesy,  "  Be 
calm,  messieurs ;  if  you  had  known  the  late  king,  my 
master,  as  well  as  I  did,  you  would  have  got  the  sense  of 
the  bishop's  words.  He  meant  that  if  the  king  had  made 
a  journey  to  purgatory,  he  was  too  restless  to  remain  there 
long."*  The  doctors  were  quite  unmanned.  They  were 
obliged  to  cease  from  the  inquiry.  Both  the  flatterer  and 
the  jester  reveal  the  shallowness  of  the  religious  convictions 
then  prevalent. 

Nor  had  the  royal  son  much  deeper  thoughts.  Only  a 
few  weeks  passed  before  he  allowed  a  great  duel,  or  prize- 
fight, to  come  off"  for  the  entertainment  of  the  court  and 
populace.  On  high  seats  sat  the  nobles  ;  the  balconies  were 
filled  with  ladies.  The  great  captains  gazed  upon  the  bar- 
barous combat.  At  every  blow  shouts  arose  and  trumpets 
sounded.  But  there  was  one  young  man  who  had  no  heart 
for  the  brutal  amusement.  He  was  silent,  calm,  thought- 
ful. He  was  Coligny.  We  are  astonished  to  see  in  that 
court  one  man  who  meditates !  Had  he  plans  more  wise 
or  thoughts  more  ambitious  ?  AVe  know  not  the  depths  of 
his  solemn  mind.f 

It  is  not  a  crime  to  be  impartial.  It  is  not  our  claim 
that  the  young  Coligny  was  entirely  free  from  all  the  sins 
amid  which  he  lived,  and  whose  presence  he  could  not  flee. 
The  age  was  one  of  lax  habits;  the  court  was  a  whirlpool 

*  Thuani,  Historia. 

f  Lacratelle,  Guerres  de  Religion. 


PROMOTIOXS    AND    PROJECTS.  51 

of  liceutiuusness.  But  many  writers  who  charge  him  with 
heresy  and  rebellion  represent  his  youth  as  a  model  of 
purity.  They  find  nothing  to  expose,  nor  need  we  seek  it. 
"We  simply  admit  that  he  may  have  been  involved  in  some 
of  the  follies  of  his  companious.  Yet  in  this  period  of  his 
life  he  was  silent  while  most  of  them  were  boisterous, 
serious  while  they  dissij)atcd,  wise  while  they  played  the 
fool  exceedingly,  and  careful  to  observe  the  rites  of  his 
Church  while  they  preferred  the  gallantries  of  the  court. 
Often  did  he  say  to  his  brothers,  "  We  are  prosperous  be- 
yond our  deserts  ;  how  strange  it  is  that  Heaven  should  so 
higlily  favour  us !" 

It  is  inii)urtant  to  notice  the  means  by  which  the  Reformed 
doctrines  were  made  known  to  the  Chatillon  brothers. 
AVhile  still  in  his  disgrace  at  C'hantilly,  Montmorency  had 
in  view  their  good  fortune,  and  he  had  a  little  private  ad- 
vice for  Gaspard's  ear.  "Think,"  said  he,  " of  Claudine 
de  Rieux,  countess  of  Laval  and  Montfort.  She  has  ad- 
mirable graces,  high  birth  and  immense  estates.  A  noble 
alliance  is  a  promotion."  Perhaps  Coligny  was  already 
tliinklng  of  some  one  else. 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  good-will,"  replied  Coligny,  after 
taking  his  usual  time  to  consider  an  important  affair,  "but 
I  prefer  that  my  brother  Andelot  .<jhould  give  his  thoughts 
to  tlie  subject.     It  will  better  suit  him." 

"  What !  is  my  advice  to  be  thrown  away,  when  I  seek 
your  highest  welfare?"  The  uncle  was  angry  at  his  very 
cool  nephew.  Not  long  after  he  sounded  the  younger 
brotlier.  "(live  me  a  (juarter  of  an  hour,"  said  Andelot, 
anil  he  hastened  to  get  the  opinion  of  Gaspard.  Not  all 
l)rothers  could  manage  an  affair  of  rivalry  so  happily. 
The  younger  accepted  the  situation,  and  the  marriage  was 
celebrated  in  the  year  1547.     It  was  blessed  of  Heaven. 

There  were  yet  other  attractions  in  the  noble  house  of  the 


52  ADMIRAL   COLIGXY. 

Lavals.  Charlotte,  a  very  near  relative  of  Claudine,  was 
also  the  daughter  of  a  count.  Beauty  and  accomplish- 
ments were  among  her  lesser  graces.  Her  wealth  was  not 
in  estates,  but  in  Christian  character.  It  appeai-s  that  she 
was  already  devoted  to  the  new  doctrines,  having  learned 
them,  probably,  from  Margaret  of  Navarre.  She  had  other 
suitors — two  or  three  princes  of  the  blood  ;  but  Coligny  be- 
gan to  think  in  a  way  that  soothed  his  uncle's  resentment, 
and  the  decision  to  which  he  came  is  shown  by  the  record, 
made  many  years  later,  in  his  own  handwriting  upon  a 
leaf  in  the  prayer-book  of  his  daughter  Louisa  :*  "  The 
xvith  day  of  October,  1547,  Gaspard  de  Coligny,  seigneur 
of  Chatillon,  and  since  admiral  of  France,  was  married  at 
Fontainebleau,  in  fii-st  marriage,  to  Charlotte  de  Laval." 
Perhaps  the  influence  of  no  wife  upon  her  husband  was 
ever  attended  with  greater  results,  personal,  social,  ecclesi- 
astic and  national.     Of  this  the  evidence  awaits  the  reader. 

Montmorency  was  appeased.  He  was  again  ready  to 
whisper  the  name  of  his  nephews  in  the  royal  ear.  Coligny 
was  one  day  summoned  before  the  king,  who  said,  "  For 
your  bravery  everywhere,  your  superior  discipline  and  your 
meritorious  services  at  Cerisola  and  Boulogne,  I  confer 
upon  you  another  rank  of  knighthood.  I  give  you  the 
collar  of  my  order — that  of  St.  Michael." 

A  mere  courtier  would  have  been  elated  with  an  honour 
so  highly  esteemed  in  that  day.  But  Coligny  was  more 
pleased  when  the  king  said  to  him  shortly  afterward,  "  I 
appoint  you  colonel-general  of  the  French  infantry,"  an 
office  so  recently  created  that  he  seems  to  have  been  the 
second  who  held  it. 

Glad  to  exchange  the  court  for  the  camp,  Coligny  was 
soon  at  his  post  in  the  field,  where  he  gained  the  reputation 
of  being  the  best  young  officer  in  the  army.     His  stcru 

*  Afterward  the  wife  of  William  the  Silent,  Prince  of  Orange. 


PltOMl/riON'S    AND    PROJECTS.  03 

sense  of  duty,  his  humanity  and  invincible  courage  were  in 
striking  contrast  to  the  gay,  frivolous  and  even  cruel  dw- 
l)osition  of  the  young  nobles  of  his  times. 

Tiie  ranks  of  soldiers  were  largely  filled  by  foreign  merce- 
naries, who  cared  Icas  for  victory  than  for  plunder  and  riot- 
ing. The  Swiss  could  always  be  hired  by  whatever  party 
offered  them  most.  They  were  idle,  profane  and  dissipated 
in  camp ;  when  in  active  service  they  roamed  as  brigands 
on  their  marches.  Coligny  had  made  a  study  of  military 
discipline,  and  had  formed  a  system  of  rules,  which  he  re- 
solved to  test  by  practice.  "Having  written  out  many 
rules  which  he  thought  necessary  both  for  the  service  of 
God  and  of  his  king,  he  showed  them  to  the  prince  (Henry 
II.),  so  that  he  might  adopt  and  publish  them  to  the  whole 
army.  The  most  excellent  of  them,  in  my  opinion,  was 
one  for  the  defence  of  God's  name  from  profanation.  The 
love  of  wine  and  of  evil  associates  reigned  equally  among 
them ;  they  thouglit  it  an  ornament  of  their  discourse  to 
take  the  name  of  God  in  vain.  '  You  make  your  courage 
consist  in  swearing,'  he  said  to  them.  '  It  is  a  wicked  bold- 
ness. It  docs  not  become  a  man  of  war.' "  *  The  Cheva- 
lier Bayard  had  made  a  similar  rule  for  his  soldiers. 

"He  would  make  himself  a  little  general,"  said  certain 
of  them  whom  he  had  rebuked  for  sleeping  through  the 
dawn,  and  even  until  midday. 

"  It  should  be  the  custom  of  the  soldier  to  rise  with  his 
colonel,"  he  replied.     l']arly  rising  was  not  one  of  his  nat- 

*  Courtiltz,  Vie  de  Coligny,  Brantonic.  As  a  specimen,  we  quote 
tlie  severe  rule  on  profanity:  "  P^t,  par  expres  et  siir  toutes  cliose.>», 
ili-fi'iulu  i\  tons  soldats  de  ue  jurer,  doreiiavant,  de  blasplit^ines  ^n- 
onncs  et  exi'crables,  siir  peine,  la  premiere  foys,  de  tenir  prison  huit 
jours  dinanl  au  pain  et  a  I'ean  ;  la  seconde,  faire  amende  honorable 
pnV)li4uenieiit,  on  ehoniise  et  li  jjenonx,  un  torche  alhimi'  au  puing." 
Puaux,  Hint.  </(•  la  RcJ.  France,  II. 
5* 


54  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

ural  traits.  Bevault  had  taken  great  pains  to  cure  his 
fondness  for  sleep,  and  it  had  clung  to  him  after  he  entered 
the  army.  When  passing  whole  nights  on  his  horse  he 
almost  shrank  from  the  hardship,  sometimes  wishing  that 
he  had  taken  the  part  which  his  brother  Odet  had  chosen. 
To  inure  himself  he  had  ordered  his  valet  to  wake  him  at 
various  hours  as  he  rested  in  camp.  Now  his  habit  was 
formed,  and  he  made  it  a  law  in  his  regiment.  He  had  a 
fixed  hour  for  rising  in  the  morning,  whether  in  camp  or 
on  the  march  to  battle;  one  object  was  that  he  might  have 
time  for  his  devotions.  "  The  first  thing  he  did  on  leaving 
his  couch  was  to  kneel  before  a  crucifix  and  spend  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  in  prayer.  In  this  he  would  allow  nothing  to 
interrupt  him,  for  he  believed  that  God  would  not  favour 
those  who  forgot  him.  Then  he  dressed  himself  and  at- 
tended to  his  horses,  to  which  he  exhibited  great  kindness. 
An  excellent  horseman  and  fond  of  riding,  he  then  spent  an 
hour  in  this  exercise,  when  the  day  was  to  be  one  of  rest. 
Much  of  his  leisure  he  sjient  in  reading,  and  few  men  were 
better  versed  in  history.  "While  a  Roman  Catholic  he  at- 
tended mass,  the  chief  service  of  his  Church  in  that  age. 
He  was  moved  less  by  a  desire  to  please  the  king  than  to 
please  God.  He  had  a  delicacy  of  religious  sentiment  rare 
in  his  time,  and  especially  at  the  court.  He  lived  much  as 
one  who  had  renounced  the  world,  and  who  never  forgot 
that  he  must  die."* 

His  rules  extended  to  the  minute  points  of  the  drill,  the 
march,  the  siege,  the  battle,  the  care  of  the  dead  and  the 
treatment  of  an  enemy.  When  first  introduced  there  were 
some  soldiers  who  were  disposed  to  test  his  firmness  in  ad- 
hering to  them.  They  violated  them.  In  order  to  show 
that  his  penalties  were  not  empty  threats,  he  began  to  make 
an  example  of  the  worse  offenders.  Among  them  was  one 
*  Courtiltz,  Vie  de  Coligny. 


PROMOTIONS    A.VD    rHOJEfTS.  O.J 

who  belungcd  to  the  town  of  Chatillon,  and  hi.s  cousin  was 
master  of  Coligny's  house  or  castle.  "Spare  him,"  en- 
trcuted  the  nui.ster,  who  had  come  to  the  relief  of  his  rela- 
tive; "he  is  my  cousin." 

"  For  that  very  reason  he  shall  have  less  grace  than  the 
others,"  replied  Coligny.  "  He  knows  me  and  my  discip- 
line better  than  they  do.  If  you  imagine  that  relation>hip 
is  an  excuse  for  crime,  and  if  you  plead  for  him  only  on 
this  ground,  you  will  not  be  kept  in  my  service  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  longer."  The  penalty  was  inflicted ;  the  result 
was  a  general  reformation  of  manners.* 

"He  has  a  little  court  about  him,  as  if  he  were  a  great 
general,"  said  sc>me  of  the  envious.  "  He  simply  cultivates 
the  friendship  of  his  fellow-officers,"  replied  those  who  under- 
stood the  matter.  The  fact  was,  he  drew  them  to  him  by 
the  attractions  of  his  character,  his  artlessnes.s,  his  frank- 
ness, his  unassuming  conduct,  and  even  by  his  strictness  of 
discipline.  He  was  training  his  men  into  a  legi(m  that 
would  Start  to  their  feet  at  his  call,  follow  him  on  the  most 
tedious  march,  rush  furiously  to  the  charge  at  his  command, 
and  make  their  presence  an  assurance  of  victory.  When- 
ever desperate  work  was  to  be  done  the  cry  was,  "Give  us 
Coligny's  regiment!/'     He  was  the  Havelock  of  his  age. 

His  regimental  rules  were  so  effective  that  they  gained 
him  favour  among  the  common  people,  who  sought  relief 
from  pillage  and  insult.  They  were  adopted  as  a  part  of 
the  military  code.  ]irantome  wrote  at  a  later  day:  "It 
was  he  who  regulated  the  French  infantry  by  those  fine 
rules  that  we  still  have  of  his,  and  which  are  printed,  prac- 
ticed, read  and  published  among  our  bands.  Captains  and 
others,  even  of  the  contrary  party,  when  any  difficulty  of 
war  arose,  would  say,  '  In  this  we  must  be  guided  by  the 
rules   and  regulations  of  monsieur   the   admiral.'      They 

*  Brantome,  Courtiltz. 


56  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

were  right ;  they  were  the  most  elegant  and  the  wisest 
that  ever  were  made  in  France,  and  I  believe  they  have 
preserved  the  lives  of  millions  of  persons,  to  say  nothing 
of  their  goods  and  property.  For,  before,  it  was  nothing 
but  pillage,  brigandage,  murders,  quarrels  and  brutality,  so 
that  the  troops  resembled  hordes  of  wild  Arabs,  rather  than 
noble  soldiers.*  This,  then,  is  the  obligation  the  world  owes 
to  this  eminent  person." 

He  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  to  })lan  a  hospital  for 
the  French  army.  In  truth,  he  was  devoted  to  human  im- 
provement in  all  its  forms.  Ranke,  speaking  of  his  disci- 
pline in  the  army,  adds :  "  With  the  same  determination, 
he  cared  for  the  condition  of  his  troops.  He  comioelled  the 
enemy  to  carry  on  the  war  according  to  the  law  of  nations 
by  the  most  impartial  reprisals,  and  was  almost  terrible  in 
his  conduct  toward  the  peasantry  who  laid  hands  on  his 
soldiers."  The  cottager  found  in  him  a  protector  and  the 
warrior  a  defender.  It  is  not  therefore  surprising  that  he 
was  exceedingly  pojiular  among  the  citizens,  who  were  saved 
from  violence,  and  the  soldiers,  who  were  kept  from  insult. 
A  man  who  thus  protects  the  rights  of  all  parties  is  above 
the  selfishness  of  the  demagogue,  and  ought  to  be  defended 
from  the  shafts  of  all  accusers. 

The  king,  "  taking  a  great  liking  to  him,"  entrusted  him 
with  the  military  command  of  Picardy,  and,  not  long  after- 
ward, with  that  of  the  Isle  de  France.  In  the  one  lay 
Boulogne,  in  the  other  Paris.  He  soon  was  made  a  mem- 
ber of  the  state  and  privy  council. 

*  "Tlie  peasants  hardly  dei<;ned  to  shut  the  doors  of  their  cellars 
and  granaries  against  the  soldiers,  who  behaved  most  becomingly. 
"When  quartered  in  the  villages  they  did  not  venture  to  take  a  pullet 
without  asking  leave  and  paying  for  it." — Claude  JInton,  whose  Chron- 
icle is  one  of  the  valuable  Documents  sur  I'llistoire  de  France.  (Con- 
sulted in  the  Boston  Athenseum.) 


PROMOTIONS    AND    PKOJECTS.  57 

The  nortlierii  coast  roiiuirod  uttontiuii.  In  a  treaty  which 
gave  the  English  the  right  to  hohl  Boulogne  for  eight  years 
it  was  agreed  that  no  new  fortifications  should  be  built. 
Ikit  the  French  saw  a  strong  embankment  growing  rapidly 
out  into  the  sea,  and  knew  it  was  not  a  result  of  nature. 
One  day  two  French  officers  came  near  the  workmen  and 
said,  "  Your  fort  advances  apace." 

"No  fort,"  replied  Lcjrd  Grey  and  his  comrades;  "it  is 
a  jetty  to  amend  the  haven,  to  save  both  your  ships  and 
ours." 

"  Yea,  but  you  intend  to  place  ordnance  upon  it." 
"  To  what  end  ?     Whereunto  should  we  shoot?" 
"  Well,  seeing  it  is  no  fort,  you  may  do  what  you  will ; 
but  if  it  was  a  fortress,  we  neither  might  nor  would  in  any 
case  endure  it."     The  parties  then  began  to  talk  about  the 
Protestants,  who  were  shaking  the  world. 

The  work  went  on.  Coligny,  who  had  heard  his  king 
say,  "  I  will  recover  Boulogne  or  lose  my  realm  for  it,"  and 
who  thought  that  his  own  plans  miglit  have  secured  it  if 
they  had  been  adopted,  was  ordered  to  checkmate  the 
English.  Choosing  the  high  ground,  he  raised  a  singular 
kind  of  fort,  near  enough  to  command  the  town  and  har- 
bour. So  ingeniously  was  it  constructed  that  for  a  century 
after  it  bore  the  name  of  Chatillon,  from  its  contriver. 
While  his  soldiers  were  securing  the  corn  and  cattle  of  the 
region,  his  guns  prevented  the  enemy  frc»m  obtaining  sup- 
plies of  bread  by  sea,  and  even  fuel  from  the  shores.  This 
fort  gave  such  advantage  to  the  besiegei-s,  tliat  Sir  Paget 
wrote  to  London,  saying  of  the  French  :  "  They  will  have 
Boulogne,  they  say,  by  fair  means  or  foul.  .  .  .  Rochefort 
[maternal  uncle  of  Coligny]  braggeth  that  their  king  is  not 
a  King  John,  but  a  French  king,  such  as  conquered  Rome, 
and  been  feared  of  the  rest;  and  he  telleth  us  how  we  are 
in  poverty  and  mutinies  at  home,  beset  all  about  with  ene- 


58  ADMIllAL    COLIGNY. 

mies.  ...  It  is  good  to  consider  whether  it  be  better  to  let 
them  have  Boulogne  again,  and  to  live  in  peace."* 

The  Frenchman  Avas  not  bragging  without  reason.  He 
had  another  nephew  besetting  England  upon  the  northern 
side.  Andelot  had  been  appointed  inspector-general  of 
infantry  and  sent  to  Scotland,  along  with  other  officers. 
He  was  helping  to  solve  the  question  whether  Mary  Stuart 
should  become  the  wife  of  Edward  VI.  or  of  Francis  11. 
The  Scots  said  that  they  did  not  dislike  the  match  with 
Edward,  but  hated  the  manner  of  wooing.  The  French 
were  more  artfid.  While  their  soldiers  were  driving  and 
burning  the  ]']nglish .  out  of  Eastern  Scotland,  they  slyly 
seirt  a  fleet  from  Leith,  on  the  pretence  of  going  to  France, 
but  in  fact  running  round  the  Orkneys,  entering  the  Clyde 
and  capturing  the  young  princess  in  the  castle  of  Dumbar- 
ton, not  against  her  will,  for  her  mother  was  a  Guise.  The 
child  of  six  years,  the  valued  prize,  was  taken  on  board  the 
royal  galley.  The  fleet  lay  for  some  time  off"  the  coast,  and 
Lady  Fleming  asked  that  Mary  might  seek  a  little  rest  ou 
shore. 

"No,"  replied  the  captain,  Villegagnon — of  whom  more 
on  other  pages — "  she  shall  not  go  on  land,  but  to  France, 
or  else  drown  by  the  way."  August  winds  bore  her  into 
the  harbour  of  Brest,  whence  she  was  taken  to  the  palace 
of  St.  Germain.f  "What  an  eventful  life  was  in  reserve 
for  Mary  of  Scots !  "  So,"  wrote  John  Knox,  "  she  was 
sold  to  go  into  France,  to  the  end  that  in  her  youth  she 
should  drink  of  that  liquor  that  should  remain  with  her  all 
her  lifetime — a  plague  to  the  realm,  and  for  her  own  final 
destruction."! 

*  Vita  Colinii ;  Burnet,  Hist.  Ref. ;  Froudc,  Hist,  of  England,  vol.  v. 
t  Peraii,  Vie  d'Andelot ;  Vie  de  Pierre  Strozzi ;  Tytler,  Hist,  of 
Scotland,  vol.  vi ;  Fronde,  Hist,  of  England,  vol.  v. 
X  Knox,  Hist,  of  Reformation. 


I'KOMOTIOX.S    ANI>    I'KOJKCTS.  59 

This  diversion  gave  Coligny  still  greater  advantage  at 
Boulogne,  for  it  placed  England  between  two  fires.  All 
parties  agreed  to  a  treaty,  whose  terms,  on  the  Freneh  side, 
were  arranged  by  Coligny  and  his  uncle  Kochefort, greatly 
to  the  advantage  of  France. 

New  troubles  arose  in  Italy.  Andelot  was  one  of  the 
brave  captains  sent  to  maintain  the  old  claims  upon  Milan, 
for  which  his  grandfather  had  battled.  In  this  war  he  was 
to  gain  spiritual  liberty.  AVhen  foraging  near  Parma,  and 
burdened  with  })lunder,  his  troops  fell  into  an  and)iiscade, 
an<l,  after  a  rough  fight,  he  was  taken  prisoner  and  carried 
off  to  j\Iilan.  There  he  was  to  remain  while  five  years 
should  wear  away  and  fierce  wars  rage  throughout  Europe. 

In  his  prison  he  asked  for  books,  and  we  have  some  hints 
of  the  way  in  which  he  obtained  certain  writings  of  John 
Calvin  and  other  Reformers. 

There  was  one  princess  ever  ready  to  help  any  French- 
man who  came  to  distress  in  Italy.  She  was  Rcnee,  Duch- 
ess of  Ferrara.  She  often  said  that  if  the  old  Salic  law 
had  not  denied  to  a  daughter  the  right  of  royal  succession, 
she  would  have  ruled  over  France.  IIa])py  for  that  land 
if  she  had  worn  the  crown  !  Then  no  Medici,  no  Charles 
IX.,  none  of  that  brood  on  the  throne!  Her  slaughter, 
Anne,  had  nuirried  Francis  of  Guise,  and  yet  that  andii- 
tious  house  could  not  t(>mj)t  her  from  the  ]iath  of  simple, 
earnest  i>iety.  AVhen  her  son-in-law  was  called  to  the  siege 
of  Calais,  leaving  a  shattered  army  to  the  mercy  of  the 
emperor,  she  had  the  credit  of  saving  ten  thousand  of  them 
from  death.  "As  they  passed  through  Ferrara,"  says 
Brantome,  "she  did  her  utmost  to  supply  them  with  money 
and  medicines." 

"You  will  bring  yourself  to  poverty,"  said  her  chiding 
steward,  who  was  coming  to  the  end  of  his  purse.  ""What 
of  that?"  was  her  reply.     "These  are  poor  Frenchmen, 


60  ADMIKAL    COLIGNY. 

and  my  countrymen,  and,  if  God  had  made  me  a  man, 
they  would  all  have  been  my  subjects;  indeed  they  would 
be  now  if  that  unjust  Salic  hiw  did  not  bear  so  hard  upon 
me."* 

How  did  she  hear  of  Andelot  in  prison  ?  Through  the 
French  court,  or  by  letters  from  his  wife,  or  himself?  Per- 
haps by  all  these  modes.  It  seems  that  she  and  her  friends 
secretly  conveyed  books  to  him,  and  that  at  the  very  time 
Avhen  she  was  annoyed  by  the  spying  Jesuits  and  under 
the  ban  of  the  duke  and  the  pope.  His  guards  did  not 
have  a  close  eye  upon  the  packages  which  slipped  through 
their  hands.  He  opened  them.  "What  heresies !  Yet, 
having  nothing  else  to  do,  he  read  the  writings  of  Calvin 
with  curiosity,  then  interest,  then  conviction.f  "  And  it 
was  there,"  says  Brantome,  "  he  learned  his  fine  religion, 
for,  having  naught  else  to  do,  he  set  himself  to  reading,  and 
had  all  sorts  of  books  brought  to  him — for  the  Inquisition 
was  not  so  tight  then  as  it  has  been  since — and  there  he 
learned  the  new  religion,  though,  indeed,  he  had  got  a  first 
scent  of  it  during  the  Protestant  wars  in  Germany  [and 
Scotland].  Such  are  the  sad  fruits  of  leisure  and  idleness!" 
He  concludes,  pathetically:  "So  many  evil  things  does  she 
teach  us,  of  which  we  have  cause  ever  afterward  to  repent." 
The  gossipping  chronicler  had  very  little  religion  of  any  sort 
to  trouble  him  with  repentance. 

Andelot  is  said  to  have  written  letters  to  his  brothers, 
advising  them  to  get  and  read  the  same  books.  But  he 
must  first  prove  that  he  had  a  steadfast  faith,  and  there 
must  be  another  captivity,  before  his  advice  would  take 
effect.  In  turning  the  key  for  his  release  his  brother  Gas- 
pard  was  to  have  a  hand. 

*  Gi^iivres  de  Clement  Marot ;  Bayle  ;  Memorials  of  the  Duchess 
Kenee,  London,  1859. 

t  Perau,  Vie  de  Seigneur  d'Andelot. 


TROMOTIONS    AND    PROJECTS.  Gl 

It  would  be  delightful  to  believe  that  Henry  II.  did  not 
breathe  threatening  and  slaughter  against  "those  of  the 
new  way"  in  religion.  But  the  proofs  of  his  violence  are 
found  throughout  the  whole  twelve  years  of  his  reign.  He 
sought  to  com])k'te  the  terrible  work,  which  his  father  had 
begun,  against  the  Waldenses  and  their  brethren  in  the 
southern  j)rovinces  of  France.  Hamlets  and  towns  were 
swept  out  of  existence.  Even  in  I'aris  the  burning-places 
were  kept  ready  for  new  victims. 

When  Henry  and  Catharine  returned  from  the  corona- 
tion at  Kheims — July  20,  1547 — the  tournaments  did  not 
satisfy  their  partisans.  They  wished  a  baptism  of  blood 
on  the  joy-ous  occasion.  The  royal  consent  was  easily  ob- 
tained. There  was  no  lack  of  heretics  in  the  prisons. 
Four  poor,  brave  Christaudins  were  chosen  for  the  stake. 
One  of  them  was  a  tailor,  thrown  into  prison  for  having 
worked  on  a  holiday  and  spoken  some  ill  words  against  the 
Church  of  Rome.  It  appears  that  he  had  been  in  the 
king's  service.  "Let  me  question  some  of  the  heretics," 
said  Henry  ;  "  it  will  be  a  pastime." 

"  Biing  in  the  tailor,"  was  the  order  of  the  Cardinal  of 
Lorraine.  "The  fellow  will  not  be  able  to  utter  a  sensible 
word.  It  will  be  amusing  to  us  all."  The  poor  man  was 
brought;  he  stood  before  the  court  with  great  presence  of 
mind.  He  proved  too  well  versed  in  8cripture  for  the  king 
to  manage.  He  put  the  priests  to  silence.  He  perplexed 
a  bishop  who  was  present.  He  dispelled  their  hope  of 
amusement  at  his  expense.  Diana  of  Poitiers  undertook 
to  silence  him  with  her  raillery,  but,  says  Crespin,  "the 
sempster  soon  cut  her  cloth  in  a  ditl'erent  fashion  to  that 
she  expected;  fur,  not  being  able  to  endure  such  inordinate 
arrogance  in  her,  whom  he  knew  to  be  the  cause  of  such 
cruel  persecutions,  he  said  to  her:  '  Re.^t  contented,  niad- 
ame,  that  you  have  infected  all  France,  withouti^  mixing 
Vol.  I.— 6 


62  ADMIRAL    COLIGXY. 

your  own  venom  and  filth  in  so  sacred  and  holy  a  thing  as 
the  religion  and  truth  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.'  She 
cringed." 

"Let  him  be  burned  alive,"  exclaimed  the  angered  king. 
The  order  was  gratifying  to  the  agents  of  cruelty.  The 
stake  was  fixed  in  front  of  the  palace.  Henry  stood  in  his 
window  and  gazed  upon  the  victim,  who  cast  upon  him  such 
a  look  of  calm  rebuke  that  he  retired,  frightened  lest  the 
judgment  of  God  should  fall  upon  him.  That  look,  that 
mute  but  terrible  accusation,  followed  him  wherever  he 
went.  For  many  a  night  he  seemed  to  behold  the  image  of 
the  dying  man.  He  swore  never  to  be  present  again  at 
such  horrible  scenes,  and  he  almost  kept  his  word.  A  more 
Christian  king  would  have  put  an  end  to  them.  But  the 
savage  work  went  on,  in  the  hope  of  terrifying  the  people. 
The  result  was  an  increase  of  believers  in  the  Gospel. 
Crowds  came  to  see  men  die  for  their  faith  ;  they  went 
home  to  mourn  and  muse.  The  humane  were  shocked ; 
they  gave  their  sympathies  to  the  resistless  martyrs ;  they 
admired  the  hei'oism  of  faith  ;  they  inquired  what  it  was 
that  made  others  so  ready  to  die  and  so  triumphant  in  the 
awful  conflict.  The  very  ashes  of  the  Place  de  Greve  were 
seed  sown  for  the  measureless  harvest  of  God. 

And  yet  the  king  seemed  to  have  two  hands,  two  sets  of 
principles,  opposed  to  each  other.  The  interests  of  the 
Cluirch  must  yield  to  those  of  the  State.  It  was  the  rule 
of  kingcraft.  The  policies  of  war  were  framed  by  no  law. 
JNIaurice  of  Saxony  roused  the  German  Protestants  against 
the  emperor  Charles  V.  and  led  them  to  war,  appealing  to 
Henry  H.  to  render  him  aid.  The  French  king  could  not 
in  honour  refuse.  If  he  did,  it  Avoukl  be  charged  that  he 
was  afraid  of  the  great  enemy  who  sought  to  make  all 
Eurojjc  his  empire.  Henry  called  together  his  councillors. 
"  We  must  assist  the  Protestants  of  Germany,"  was  the 


PROMOTION'S    AND    PROJECTS.  63 

])uri)ort  of  one  broatli.  "  We  nui.st  criisli  out  Protestantism 
in  France,"  was  the  jjurport  of  the  next.  AVith  one  hand 
he  \vas  about  to  strike  a  severe  blow  at  the  papaov,  and 
with  the  other  attempt  to  soothe  the  wound.  Luther  wouhl 
have  good  cause  to  rejoice  in  the  aid  rendered  to  German 
liberty;  Calvin  must  lament  the  oppression  undrr  whicli 
his  French  followers  were  groaning.  It  is  a  singular  cir- 
cumstance that  the  Keformation  in  Germany  should  owe  a 
debt  of  gratitude  to  a  king  who  persecuted  his  own  subjects 
at  home  with  all  the  fierceness  of  bigotry.*  Coligny  served 
in  the  campaign  as  an  officer  of  high  rank,  paving  the  way 
for  still  higher  promotion. 

By  the  wiles  of  ^Montmorency  and  by  the  soldiers'  cour- 
age France  was  regaining  her  lost  towns.  Charles  V.  took 
up  his  march  with  a  most  fearful  train  of  artillery,  saying, 
"  I  will  take  Metz,  or  perish  in  the  attempt."  Couriers 
came  to  Henry  with  the  alarming  news.  As  Coligny  was 
now  the  acting  admiral,  having  an  eye  .equally  upon  the 
cavalry  and  the  infantry,  he  expected  to  be  ordered  to  the 
work  of  defence.  But  the  commission  was  given  to  Francis 
of  Guise. 

The  time  had  beeiLwheu  Coligny  would  have  rejoiced  in 
the  advancement  of  his  young  comrade.  But  Guise  had 
begun  to  reveal  his  jealousy  and  ambition  ;  he  had  mut- 
tered his  displeasure  when  Coligny  was  promoted ;  he  had 
been  born  with  a  hatred  to  the  house  of  Montmorency  in 
his  heart,  and,  as  the  iron  blood  of  Guise  had  but  recently 
become  golden,  he  affected  a  contempt  for  the  nobler  anil 
more  ancient  house  of  Chatillon.  "With  a  drop  of  Bourbon 
in  his  veins  he  coveted  the  title  of  a  prince  of  the  blood. 
!Might  he  not  possibly  be,  one  day,  king  of  France?  and 
his  brother  Charles,  the  cardinal,  pope  in  Rome  ?  It  was  a 
mystery  to  Coligny  that  Francis  Guise  should  be  chosen 
*  Perau,  Vie  de  Coligny  ;  Sleidan  ;  Thuanus. 


64  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

for  the  defence.     "  What  is  my  ambitious  will  ?"  thought 
he  ;  "  there  is  a  Providence." 

The  choice  was  made.  Guise  went  to  Metz.  He  almost 
destroyed  the  city  in  preparing  to  defend  it.  Churches  and 
convents  were  levelled  to  make  a  battle-field.  The  little 
band  of  Protestants  there  had  no  mercy  shown  them.*  He 
aided  in  throwing  up  breastworks  with  his  own  hands.  He 
won  the  applause  of  the  soldiers  and  the  praises  of  the 
citizens,  who  hoped  to  resist  the  emperor's  hundred  thou- 
sand men.  At  length  the  enemy  opened  fire  ;  some  of  the 
walls  were  broken ;  the  awful  charge  was  made,  and  met 
as  Charles  had  not  expected.  The  tide  of  battle  was  rolled 
back,  and  the  emperor  retired  to  his  quarters,  complaining 
that  he  was  deserted  by  his  troops,  who  acted  as  cowards 
and  no  longer  deserved  the  name  of  men.  Rain  and  snow 
had  their  effect  upon  the  besiegers.  The  old  emperor  was 
foiled  by  the  young  duke,  and  he  resolved  to  retreat,  saying, 
"  I  now  perceive  that  Fortune  chooses  to  confer  her  favours 
upon  young  suitors,  scorning  those  who  are  advanced  in 

*  William  Farel,  the  pastor  at  Neufchatel,  had  come  to  preach  a 
short  time  at  ]\Ietz,  but  was  obliged  to  desist.  He  retired  to  the 
neighbouring  town  of  Gorze,  where  he  would  be  protected  b)'  Count 
William  of  Furstenberg.  In  spite  of  the  attacks  of  furious  women, 
he  preached  with  success.  Many  Protestants  from  Metz  came  to  hear 
him.  This  enraged  the  Romanists  of  that  city,  and  tliey  laid  a  plot 
to  massacre  him  and  his  hearers.  The  Duke  of  (iuise  sent  a  company. 
of  soldiers  to  fall  upon  the  congregation.  Three  hundred  of  these  in- 
nocent people  were  celebrating  (he  Lord's  Supper.  The  service  had 
scarcely  closed  when  they  heard  the  trumpet ;  the  band  of  soldiers 
fell  upon  them,  put  some  to  the  sword  and  drove  others  into  the  river, 
where  they  were  drowned.  Farel  was  wounded.  He  and  Count 
William  barely  got  into  the  castle.  Even  there,  Farel  was  not  safe, 
and  he  was  put  into  a  wagon  with  some  wounded  men  and  sent 
to  Strasburg.  This  was  one  of  the  first  of  Guise's  butcheries.  The 
French  king  refused  to  bring  the  murderers  to  justice. — Kirchhofer, 
Leben  Farels. 


PROMOTIONS    AND    PROJECTS.  65 

years."     All  France  rnng  with  the  fame  of  the  Duke  of 
Guise, 

Another  young  man  was  waitinj^  to  give  the  emperor  a 
rebuff.  Coligny,  having  been  sent  towarfl  Fianfler?",  re- 
pelled him  from  Doullens,  and  faced  him  again  at  Keiity, 
where  both  ])artios  claimed  tlic  victory.  It  was  necessary, 
however,  for  Charles  to  rt'treat,  and  but  for  the  excellence 
of  his  horse,  Coligny  might  have  had  the  great  monarch  as 
a  prisoner.  But  history  does  not  consist  in  what  iniglit 
have  been,  and  we  will  not  speculate.  The  long  campaign 
had  its  end,  and  soldiers  went  home  to  tell  at  their  firesides 
how  Coligny  applied  his  severe  rules;  how  he  went  into 
battle  witii  a  i)rayer  and  came  out  with  a  thanksgiving; 
how  he  often  restrained  the  troops  from  pillage  and  from 
outrages  upon  the  citizens;  and  how,  wlien  his  uncle  or- 
dered the  sack  of  a  Flemish  town  and  gave  liim  the  booty, 
he  divided  it  among  the  soldiers.  He  was  now  fully  con- 
firmed as  the  admiral  of  France.  lie  had  command  of 
the  entire  sea-coast  and  the  border  fortresses.  "The  ad- 
miral of  France  was  rather  a  titular  than  an  executive  of- 
ficcr,  and  more  generally,  as  Coligny,  employed  in  military 
than  naval  service."t 

Admiral  Coligny  was  mainly  entrusted  with  the  forming 
of  several  treaties,  one  of  which  created  more  noise  "in  the 
breach  than  in  the  observance."  It  was  a  "  treaty  of  truce," 
brought  about  on  this  wise.  Charles  V.,  the  emperor,  was 
j)reparing  to  abdicate,  but  he  wished  to  smooth  the  ])ath 
for  his  son  Philip,  and  strew  it  witii  flowers  of  peace.  Com- 
missioners from  him  and  Henry  II.  were  labouring  to  get 
the  advantage  of  each  other,  and  thus  secure  an  exchange 
of  prisoners.  They  were  entertained  by  the  monks  in  the 
Abbey  of  Vaucelles,  near  Cambray.  If  the  parties  at  war 
could  exchange  prisoners,  why  could  they  not  make  a  truce, 
*  Rnnki'ii,  Tlistorv  of  Fnuioo,  Bk.  vi.,  cli.  v, 
6« 


66  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

and  prevent  any  more  soldiers  from  being  captured  or 
killed  ?  They  agreed  upon  a  truce  for  five  years.  Count 
Lalain  came  to  Blois  to  get  the  signature  of  Henry.  Ad- 
miral Coligny  was  sent  to  Brussels  to  be  present  when 
Charles  and  Philip  should  bind  themselves  by  oath  to  keep 
the  peace.  As  for  the  pope,  he  must  make  the  best  of  if, 
however  much  he  desired  to  see  the  war  prolonged.  He 
was  anxious  to  drive  the  Spaniards  out  of  Italy,  and  Henry 
II.  had  sworn  to  aid  him  in  the  expulsion,  but  the  truce  of 
Vaucelles  cut  off  the  hope  of  French  assistance. 

Coligny  took  his  journey  into  the  land  where  "William 
the  Silent  was  soon  to  lay  the  foundations  of  the  Dutch  Re- 
public. These  two  most  remarkable  men  had  just  been 
leading  armies  against  each  other  on  the  frontier.  Did 
they  meet  at  the  court  in  Brussels?  If  so,  they  did  little 
more  than  study  one  another.  Each  was  too  cautious  and 
silent  a  man  to  invite  an  acquaintance  under  such  circum- 
stances. Coligny  was  ushered  into  the  presence  of  Philip, 
and  one  of  his  attendants  reported  to  his  royal  master  "an 
instance  of  Philip's  unpoliteness."  The  apartment  was 
hung  with  tapestry,  which  represented  the  battle  of  Pavia, 
the  manner  in  which  Francis  I.  was  taken  prisoner  by 
Charles  Y.,  his  painful  voyage  to  Spain,  and  all  the  most 
mortifying  incidents  of  his  captivity  in  the  prisons  of  Mad- 
rid. It  was  an  insult,  and  the  Frenchman  who  could  endure 
it  without  seeming  to  notice,  and  without  publishing  it  to 
the  world,  might  well  be  named  Coligny  the  Silent.  There 
were  compensations,  however,  for  this  disrespect.  All  was 
joy  in  the  Netherlands;  the  bells  rang  forth  the  people's 
gratitude  for  peace.  There  was  feasting  in  the  guild-halls ; 
there  was  the  roasting  of  whole  oxen  on  the  public  squares  ; 
the  streets  of  cities  ran  red  with  wine,  whei'e  soon  the  blood 
of  the  citizens  should  flow ;  triumphal  arches  were  raised 
to  adorn  Philip's  pathway,  and  even  cold  February  sup- 


PROMOTIONS    AND    I'UO.IECTS.  G7 

])lieJ  a  profusion  of  flowers  to  strew  at  his  feet.  And  yet 
lie  seemed  more  sullen  than  ever,  as  if  it  were  insulting  for 
tliose  to  rejoice  whom  he  intended  to  make  the  victims  of 
oppression  and  cruelty.* 

By  tliis  treaty,  Andelot  and  his  cousin  Francis  Montmo- 
rency were  set  at  liberty,  yet  not  without  paying  an  enor- 
mous ransom.  Poor  llobert  la  March  !  Duke  of  Bouillon 
and  high  officer  as  he  was,  he  could  not  pay  the  sum  re- 
(juired  without  selling  his  estates.  The  avaricious  Philip 
demanded  that  his  wife  and  daughter  take  his  place  in  a 
Flemish  prison  until  he  could  pay  the  amount.  Nor  did 
they  hesitate.  Exchanging  places  at  the  dungeon  doors, 
they  were  in  the  hands  of  a  merciless  tyrant,  and  he  went 
into  Picardy.  Suddenly  he  fell  into  convulsions  and  died. 
The  physicians  pronounced  it  a  case  of  poison.  Had  Philip 
caused  it?  None  could  tell ;  but  he  had  violated  t\ve  laws 
of  war  in  the  treatment  of  the  wife  and  daughter.  A 
general  indignation  and  mistrust  were  the  result.  The  out- 
rage was  a  token  of  the  short  duration  of  the  truce.f 

*  Mntlev,  Diitcli  Rc'piil)lio,  i.  154. 
f  Lacratelle,  Guerrcs  de  Religion. 


CHAPTER   III. 

FROM    CAMP    TO    PUTS  OX, 
(1.550—1557.) 

THE  desire  to  shoot  a  few  poor  birds  was  to  open  the  way 
for  breaking  the  truce  of  Yaucelles.  At  Rome  the 
Spanish  ambassador  was  rejoicing  in  the  peace,  and  as  he  had 
little  else  to  do  but  keep  it,  he  resolved  upon  hunting  ex- 
cursions and  feasting  upon  game.  It  was  his  habit  to  leave 
the  city  early  in  the  morning,  with  his  servants,  horses  and 
hounds,  and  sport  with  his  fowling-piece.  The  gates  were 
opened  at  his  word.  But  one  morning,  by  accident  or  de- 
sign, he  was  refused  an  exit.  He  reasoned  and  begged,  but 
the  guard  was  unmoved  by  his  logic  and  his  pleadings. 
Unwilling  to  lose  his  day's  sport,  and  enraged  at  the  insult 
to  his  dignity,  he  fired  the  hearts  of  his  attendants,  and  they 
fell  upon  the  soldiers,  beat  them  shamefully,  mastered  them, 
passed  through  the  gate,  and  he  took  his  morning's  amuse- 
ment.* 

The  sorely-beaten  guards  ran  with  their  story  to  "the 
holy  father,"  Paul  IV.,  whom  truth  portrays  as  "  a  fierce, 
peevish,  querulous  and  quarrelsome  dotard."  It  is  enoiigh 
to  say  that  he  was  a  Caraffa,  a  lover  of  the  Spanish  Inqui- 
sition, but  a  hater  of  the  Spaniards.  The  pope  was  furious 
over  the  affair  at  the  city  gate.  His  nephew,  "  the  master- 
spirit and  principal  mischief-maker  of  the  papal  court," 
Cardinal  Caraffa,  added  fuel  to  the  flame.  Once  a  Avild 
and  dissolute  soldier,  he  was  able  to  supply  the  oaths,  while 

*  Motley's  Rise  of  the  Dutcli  Republic,  vol.  i.  p.  160. 
68 


FROM    CAMP    TO    PRISON'.  GO 

liis  uncle  raved  at  the  Spaniards  as  "heretics,  schismatics, 
accursed  of  God,  tlie  spawn  of  Jews  and  Moors,  the  very 
dregs  of  the  earth."  The  papal  eyes  were  opened.  The 
truce  of  Vaucelles  was  thought  to  be  one  of  the  nets  of  the 
sharp-sighted  emperor,  which  Henry  II.  had  sprung  over 
Home.  The  Spaniards  were  making  havoc  in  the  city,  and 
the  French  king  had  bound  himself  to  let  them  alone!  But 
tlie  truce  must  be  broken. 

The  snipe-shooting  envoy  returned  to  his  quarters  and 
robed  himself  for  the  papal  presence,  that  he  might  explain 
tiie  slight  mistake.  But  the  pope  refused  to  give  him  a 
hearing.  "  Behold,  how  great  a  matter  a  little  fire  kin- 
dleth  !"  When  war  is  wanted,  a  trifling  misunderstanding 
calls  for  blows  and  blood.  Cardinal  CarafTa,  who  was  no 
novice  in  the  arts  of  intrigue,  was  sent  post-haste  to  Paris. 

"Are  you  not  the  protector  of  the  papal  chair,  and  of 
the  Carafia  family  in  particular?"  inquired  the  overheated 
cardinal. 

"  It  is  my  pride  thus  to  be  called,"  answered  King  Henry. 
"  I  was  crowned  as  the  most  Catholic  king." 

"What,  then,  means  that  truce  of  Vaucelles?  The 
S]»aniards  are  upon  us,  and  yet  you  have  sworn  to  keep 
hands  off  them  for  five  years." 

"  That  was  merely  a  little  happy  arrangement  for  our 
good  in  another  climate.  It  only  ai)plies  to  Flan<lei"s.  As 
it  was  made  without  consulting  the  pope,  it  is  not  infallible. 
jNIy  secret  league  with  the  holy  father  is  of  older  date,  and 
may  be  of  stronger  force.  True,  I  have  sworn  not  to  make 
war  upon  Philip,  and  my  conscience — " 

"The  matter  of  conscience  can  be  happily  arranged," 
said  the  wily  legate.  "  I  have  power  from  the  p()i)e  to 
absolve  you  from  your  oath.  And  if  you  fear  that  the 
])ope  may  die — for  he  is  old  and  frail — and  that  a  revolu- 
tion may  follow  his  death,  we  can  remove  this  obstacle.     I 


70  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY, 

will  engage  my  uncle,  the  pope,  to  nominate  cardinals  who 
will  favour  you,  and  thus  enable  you  to  place  in  the  papal 
chair  one  who  will  promote  your  intci'ests."  By  such  in- 
trigues were  popes  often  elected  for  political  purposes. 
What  a  means  of  securing  infallibility! 

Henry  was  wrapt  in  sober  thought.  Montmorency  had 
told  him  that  it  might  be  a  ruinous  policy  to  break  the 
truce.  The  oath  was  safe ;  as  to  its  being  sacred,  he  did 
not  care  so  much.  Break  it,  and  war  must  follow.  But 
the  Guises  joined  with  Caraffa ;  Catherine  began  to  have 
influence  enough  to  make  her  voice  heard  in  behalf  of  her 
native  Italy;  Diana  brought  up  the  reserved  force  of  argu- 
ments ;  and  Henry  yielded :  "  I  will  be  absolved ;  I  will 
sign  a  new  league  with  the  pope."  * 

"  You  delight  me.  You  will  not  leave  the  pontiff  at  the 
mercy  of  the  Spaniard.  You  will  send  an  army  into  Italy." 
Caraffa  artfully  gained  his  point.  He  was  honoured  with 
a  public  ovation,  and  as  the  people  pressed  near  to  get  his 
blessing  he  smiled  upon  them,  muttering  to  those  who  rode 
at  his  side,  "  Let  us  fool  these  poor  creatures  to  their  hearts' 
content,  since  they  will  be  fools." 

Henry  summoned  his  counsellors.  Among  them  were 
Admiral  Coligny  and  Francis,  Duke  of  Guise,  warm 
friends  in  their  youth,  but  in  their  manhood  somewhat 
chilled  in  heart  and  distant  in  their  greetings.  Coligny 
took  sides  with  those  who  advised  the  king  not  to  send  an 
army  into  Italy.  The  truce  of  Vaucelles  was  sacred ; 
upon  honour  he  had  sheathed  the  sword ;  with  weariness 
he  had  ridden  to  Brussels  to  get  a  royal  signature.     "  It 

*  "  The  pope,  apprehending  the  preparations  which  were  made  by 
the  Spaniards  in  tlie  realm  of  Naples,  had  recourse  unto  tlie  French 
king  and  to  the  forces  of  France,  the  ancient  refuge  of  popes  op- 
pressed. This  was  an  occasion  to  break  the  truce." — Turquet,  HiS' 
torie  of  Spaine. 


FROM    CAMP    TO    PRIHOX.  71 

would  be  perjury  to  break  the  peace,"  said  he,  bohlly — "a 
perjury  fatal  to  the  kingdom.  God  has  iu  all  ages  been  a 
severe  avenger  of  such  a  crime." 

"It  is  not  preaching  that  his  majesty  needs,"  \\c  hear 
Guise  replying;  "policy  is  to  be  consulted." 

"  The  safety  of  the  holy  father  is  the  first  of  all  consider- 
ations," adds  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  who  secretly  wished 
to  advance  the  Guises  by  having  his  brother  sent  in  defence 
of  the  pope. 

"  We  must  defend  our  oath  of  peace,  or  God  will  not 
defend  us,"  is  Coligny's  view  of  the  subject.  "  The  pope  is 
to  us  in  the  jilace  of  God,"  replies  Lorraine — a  doctrine 
which  Coligny  no  longer  believed. 

"  No  more  theology,  if  you  please,"  we  hear  the  veteran 
Montmorency  say ;  "  for  war  is  the  question.  I  cannot 
advise  it.     The  kingdom  is  not  prepared  for  it." 

Henry  did  not  long  waver  in  his  choice.  He  had  already 
plighted  his  fiiith  to  the  Guises.  He  ordered  Strozzi,  his 
wife's  Italian  cousin,  to  hasten  with  some  troops  to  Rome, 
and  the  Duke  of  Guise  to  organize  a  regular  army.  AVe 
shall  not  follow  them  in  their  campaigns.  The  honest 
heart  of  Coligny  was  pained  when  he  saw  such  reckless- 
ness of  oaths  that  ought  to  be  sacred,  and  such  a  disregard 
of  God,  to  whom  they  were  made.  From  this  hour  he 
understood  the  Guises,  and  they  hated  him  with  all  their 
soul.* 

The  admiral  returned  to  his  government  of  Picardy,  to 
prepare  for  war  in  the  very  face  of  that  peace  which  he 
had  so  lately  pledged  his  honour  to  maintain.  He  would 
not  strike  the  first  blow.  He  put  himself  on  the  defensive. 
The  crisis  swiftly  approached.  The  perfidy  of  Henry  II. 
was  soon  reported  at  Brussels.  The  Spanish  Philip  had 
married  Mary,  but  he  was  not  sure  that  he  liad  won  Eng- 

*  lyAiivigiiy,  \'i(j  de  (-iui.se;  Coniaton  (?),  MciiU)irc's  de  L'olliguy. 


72  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

land.  The  fire  kindled  in  Europe  from  Naples  to  Calais 
might  melt  the  jewels  of  the  crown  just  received  from  his 
father  the  emperor.  Charles  might  find  a  retreat  among 
the  monks  of  Yuste,  and  do  penance  for  his  sins  of  ambi- 
tion and  war,  but  his  son  must  go  on  repeating  the  sins  and 
striving  for  the  empire  of  the  world.  Philip  had  reason  to 
set  at  naught  the  five  years'  truce  of  Vaucelles,  and  he 
renewed  the  contest  with  France.  He  sent  a  herald,  after 
the  ancient  fashion,  to  inform  the  French  king  that  war 
was  proclaimed  against  France.  The  herald  stood  in  the 
cajiital  and  in  the  presence  of  the  court,  and  talked  in  such 
a  bold  tone  of  defiance  that  the  flaming  old  constable, 
Montmorency,  wished  to  make  short  work  of  his  insolence, 
and  strongly  urged  his  master  to  hang  the  envoy  on  the 
spot.  Philip  was  in  England,  coldly  visiting  his  unamiable 
wife,  and  with  great  difficulty  securing  British  troops  for 
the  war.  He  put  his  army  under  Philibert,  Duke  of  Savoy, 
a  brave  young  hunter  of  men,  who  had  been  known  "to 
eat,  drink  and  sleep  in  his  armour  for  thirty  days  together." 
Instead  of  paying  his  addresses  to  the  half-Protestant  Prin- 
cess Elizabeth  of  England,  he  must  take  the  field  and 
besiege  some  of  the  great  towns  on  the  northern  borders  of 
Picardy. 

The  eye  of  Coligny  was  upon  the  movements  of  the  Duke 
of  Savoy,  whom  he  knew  to  be  ready  to  crush  him  by  any 
means  in  his  power.  The  admiral  had  advanced  his  forces 
toward  the  city  of  Douay,  before  the  formal  declaration  of 
war,  assured  that  a  larger  army  would  soon  be  on  the 
march,  under  his  uncle  Montmorency,  his  brother  Francis 
of  Andelot,  now  the  colonel-general  of  infantry,  and  the 
young  Louis  de  Bourbon,  Prince  of  Conde.  Motley  relates 
the  success  of  the  attempt  upon  Douay  in  terms  which  en- 
liven history  with  the  charms  of  vivid  portraiture: 

"  It  happened  that  a  certain  banker  of  Lucca,  an  ancient 


FllOM    CAMl'    TO    I'HISOX.  73 

gambler  and  debauchee,  whom  evil  courses  had  reduced 
from  affluence  to  penury,  had  taken  up  his  abode  upon  a 
hill  overlooking  the  city  of  Douay.  Here  he  had  built 
himself  a  hermit's  cell.  Clad  in  sackcloth,  with  a  rosary 
at  his  waist,  he  was  accustomed  to  beg  his  bread  from  door 
to  door.  His  garb  was  all,  however,  which  he  possessed  of 
sanctity,  and  he  had  passed  his  time  in  contemplating  the 
weak  points  in  the  defences  of  the  city  with  much  more  mi- 
nuteness than  those  of  his  own  heart.  Upon  the  breaking 
out  of  hostilities  in  Italy,  the  instincts  of  his  old  profession 
had  suggested  to  him  that  a  good  speculation  might  be 
made  in  Flanders  by  turning  to  account,  as  a  spy,  the  ob- 
servations which  he  had  made  in  his  character  of  a  hermit. 
He  sought  an  interview  with  Coligny,  and  laid  his  proposi- 
tions before  him.  The  noble  admiral  hesitated,  for  his 
sentiments  were  more  elevated  than  those  of  many  of  his 
contemporaries.  He  had,  moreover,  himself  negotiated  and 
signed  the  truce  with  Spain,  and  he  shrank  from  violating 
it  with  his  own  hand  l)eforc  a  declaration  of  war.  Still, 
he  was  aware  that  a  French  army  was  on  its  way  to  attack 
the  Spaniards  in  Italy ;  he  was  under  instructions  to  take 
the  earliest  advantage  which  his  position  on  the  frontier 
might  offer  him  ;  he  knew  that  both  theory  and  practice 
authorized  a  general,  in  that  age,  to  break  bis  fast,  even  in 
time  of  truce,  if  a  tenipting  morsel  should  present  itself;* 
and,  above  all,  he  thoroughly  understood  the  character  of 
liis  nearest  antagonist,  the  new  governor  of  the  Nether- 
lands, Philibert  of  Savoy,  whom  he  knew  to  be  the  most 
unscrupulous  chieftain  in  Europe.  These  considerations 
decided  him  to  take  advantage  of  the  hermit-i)anker's  com- 
munication. 

"A    dav   was    accordingly    fixed,   at    whicli,    under    the 
guidance  of  this  newly-acciuired  ally,  a  surpri.^e  sliould  be 

*  Rrantomc,  ^'ie  de  r.\diniral  dc  Chatillon. 
Vol.  I.— 7 


74  ADMIIIAI.    COLIGNY. 

attempted  by  the  French  forces,  and  the  unsuspecting  city 
of  Douay  given  over  to  the  pillage  of  a  brutal  soldiery. 
The  time  appointed  was  the  night  of  Epiphany,  upon  occa- 
sion of  which  festival  it  was  thought  the  inhabitants,  over- 
come with  sleep  and  wassail,  might  be  easily  overpowered 
(6th  January,  1557).  The  plot  was  a  good  plot,  but  the 
admiral  of  France  was  destined  to  be  foiled  by  an  old 
woman.*  This  person,  apparently  the  only  creature  awake 
in  the  town,  perceived  the  danger,  ran  shrieking  through 
the  streets,  alarmed  the  citizens  while  it  was  yet  time,  and 
thus  prevented  the  attack.  Coligny,  disa])pointed  in  his 
plan,  recompensed  his  soldiers  by  a  sudden  onslaught  upon 
Sens  in  Artois,  which  he  sacked  and  then  levelled  with  the 
ground."  If  Coligny  gave  such  a  license  to  his  troops, 
there  must  have  been  strong  reasons  for  departing  from  his 
usual  restraints  of  discii^line,  and  from  the  merciful  dispo- 
sition which  is  almost  universally  ascribed  to  him. 

The  Duke  of  Savoy  pushed  forward  his  army,  pillaged 
and  burned  Yervins  and  made  a  feint  against  the  town  of 
Guise.  Coligny  saw  that  the  real  object  of  attack  was 
Saint  Quentin.  This  old  frontier  town  of  Picardy  stood 
on  a  hill,  which  sloped  down  to  the  river  Somme.  A  broad 
ditch  lay  around  the  outer  wall.  On  three  sides  was  a 
marsh,  deep  enough,  in  certain  places,  to  be  called  a  lake. 
It  was  worth  saving,  not  only  for  its  wealth  and  manufac- 
tures, but  because  it  was  on  the  high  road  to  Paris.  If  the 
enemy  should  capture  it,  he  might  rush  to  the  seizure  of  the 
capital. 

Teligny,t  whose  grandson  was  to  obtain  the  hand  of  the 
young  Louisa  Coligny,  was  in  the  city  with  a  few  men.  He 
and  the  captain  of  the  town  sent  word  to  the  admiral  that 

*  Perau,  Vie  de  Coligny ;  Laoratelle,  Guerre?  de  Religion, 
t  Motley  is  mistaken  in  saying  tluit  he  was  "son-in-law  of  the  ad- 
miral." 


FIIOM    CAMP    T<)    PJJISOX.  75 

tliey  were  in  great  peril.  They  needed  men  and  supplies. 
The  forces  of  the  enemy  had  begun  the  siege,  crowding  in 
between  the  walls  and  the  river,  and  taking  possession  of 
the  houses  in  the  suburbs.  Coligny  knew  that  it  was  use- 
less to  wait  for  the  main  army  under  Montmorency  to  come 
to  the  relief  of  the  city,  for  the  divisions  were  posted  at 
several  points,  distant  from  each  other.  He  knew  that 
every  hour  lessened  the  possibility  of  reinforcing  the  gar- 
rison. He  thought  how  inqjortant  was  the  place  to  France; 
it  stood  as  the  defence  of  the  capital ;  if  it  fell,  Paris  might 
be  taken.  His  plans  were  rapidly  formed,  and  as  "  he  was 
not  the  man  to  let  the  grass  grow  under  his  feet,"  he  set 
out  with  reinforcements  of  ten  or  twelve  hundred  men,  horse 
and  foot.  It  was  the  second  of  August.  The  race  was 
warm  between  hijn  and  certain  English  troops,  which  were 
hurrying  to  join  the  besiegers.  They  first  reached  the  camp 
at  Saint  Quentin,  and  blocked  up  the  route  by  which  the 
admiral  hoped  to  enter  the  city.  But  he  was  determined 
to  force  his  way.  His  officers  protested  against  his  attempt. 
His  army  was  slow  to  catch  his  enthusiasm.  In  his  anxiety 
he  outstripped  the  movements  of  his  troops.  Only  seve.n 
hundred  men  followed  him,  as  the  gates  were  opened  to 
admit  him,  wlien  tlic  midnight  air  rang  with  the  cheers  of 
the  besieged  little  band  ;  the  rest  had  failed  through  weari- 
ness, mistaken  the  j)ath  or  proved  unfaithful  to  duty.  He 
had  listened  to  no  voice  save  the  desperate  entreaties  of  the 
garrison,  and  his  great  thought  had  been  the  defence  of  his 
country.  Shutting  hiinself  up  in  the  city  and  trusting  in 
God,  he  resolved  to  maintain  it  l)y  his  skill  and  experience 
or  share  its  dismal  fate. 

As  the  gates  closed   upon  Coligny  the  road  was  blocked    , 
up  for  his  advancing  trooi)s.     His  uncle  was  at  ]^a  Fere, 
hearing  daily  of  the  state  of  affairs,  and  doing  all  that  he 
could  to  send  relief,  but  dLsa})pointed  in  every  eflbrt.     The 


76"  ADMIRAL   eOI.IONY. 

place  was  even  weaker  than  the  admiral  had  expected  to 
find  it.  The  walls  could  not  endure  a  cannonade;  the 
towers  were  unfit  for  use ;  the  magazines  had  in  them  a  fair 
supply  of  ammunition,  but  there  were  not  fifty  muskets  in 
good  repair.  The  stores  of  provisions  would  be  exhausted 
in  three  weeks.  The  admiral  must  make  the  best  of  his 
condition,  and  be  active.  From  the  towers  he  saw  where  to 
operate.  One  of  the  first  steps  was  to  prevent  the  esiemy 
from  approaching  nearer  to  the  walls  and  hiding  in  the 
suburban  houses  and  among  the  ti'ees.  The  ditch  was 
crossed,  the  trees  levelled,  and  the  houses  which  could  give 
"aid  and  comfort"  to  the  enemy  burned  to  the  ground. 

For  a  few  days  the  admiral  was  ill,  and  against  his  ex- 
press orders  Teligny  made  an  imprudent  sortie,  hoping  to 
signalize  his  courage.  He  was  stricken  down  by  the  foe, 
and  rescued  by  the  hands  of  Coligny,  who,  at  great  peril, 
rushed  forth  and  brought  him  back,  covered  with  wounds, 
to  implore  pardon  and  to  die  at  the  feet  of  his  forgiving 
commander.  The  loss  of  the  popular  captain  was  greatly 
regretted  by  all.  Weaker  and  weaker  grew  the  garrison. 
Shorter  rations  were  given  to  the  besieged,  and  lest  one 
common  fate  of  starvation  should  involve  them  all,  Coligny 
sent  out  all  useless  consumers.  He  quartered  the  women 
in  the  cathedral  and  other  churches,  locking  the  doors,  lest 
their  tears  or  their  terror  should  weaken  the  courage  of  the 
soldiers.  It  was  an  act  of  mercy,  as  well  as  a  military  neces- 
sity, for  it  saved  the  weak  from  the  insults  of  the  strong. 

The  more  desperate  affairs  became,  the  more  cheerful 
•were  the  face  and  the  words  of  Coligny.  Those  whom  he 
inspired  with  confidence  knew  not  the  agonies  of  fear  which 
he  experienced  while  visiting  his  soldiers  by  night,  or  stand- 
ing by  day  in  the  watch-tower  and  looking  in  vain  for  the 
banners  of  Andelot  or  Montmorency.  At  length,  from  his 
tower,  he  discovered  a  route  by  which  it  might  be  possible 


FROM  CAMP  TO  misox.  77 

to  introduce  reinforoements.  There  was  a  point  where  the 
niartili  was  forded  along  a  few  narrow  and  difficult  paths, 
and  a  running  stream  might  be  crossed  in  boats.  He  sent 
a  messenger  to  his  uncle,  suggesting  his  plan.  The  eager 
old  constable  lost  no  time.  He  ordered  his  nephew,  Ande- 
lot,  to  lead  two  thousand  men  across  the  marshes  and  join 
his  brother.  The  bold  colonel-general  set  out  by  night 
with  his  men,  full  of  hope  and  audacious  in  enterprise. 
IJut  the  guide  was  either  ignorant  of  the  paths  or  treacher- 
ous to  his  countrymen,  and  he  led  the  cautious  soldiers  up 
to  an  outpost  of  the  enemy,  where  they  were  attacked,  re- 
pulsed and  routed.  Some  were  cut  to  pieces,  many  were 
drowned  in  the  marshes,  and  the  renniant  escaped  with 
their  gallant  leader  to  the  camp  at  La  Fere.  Coligny  now 
saw  this  secret  route  beset  with  enemies. 

The  ninth  of  August  came,  and  the  Romish  besiegers 
were  thinking  of  the  festival  of  St.  Lawrence,  which  Mont- 
morency was  as  ready  to  honour  as  they,  for  he  was  a 
staunch  papist.  But  they  might  not  be  so  willing  as  him- 
self to  make  battle  upon  a  saint's  day.  He  resolved  to 
make  another  attempt  to  throw  a  force  into  the  city  and 
in  broad  dayliglit,  with  Andelot  at  the  head.  His  plan 
was  to  cross  the  river  Somme,  Coligny  furnishing  the  boats. 
He  j)Ut  his  entire  army  in  motion — eighteen  thousand  foot- 
men and  six  thousand  cavalry,  most  of  them  foreign  mer- 
cenaries, but  commanded  by  an  array  of  the  finest  nobles 
and  cavaliers  of  France,  many  of  whom  had  been  reading 
in  their  tent^  the  books  of  the  Reformers. 

The  next  morning,  that  of  the  memoraljle  day  of  St. 
Lawrence,  ^lontmorency  took  liis  position  on  the  banks  of 
the  Sonune,*  in  full  face  of  the  enemy,  who  was  a.s  much 
surprised  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  the  French  as  if  they 
had  dropped  from  the  clouds.     The  shots  that  fell  upon  the 

*  Prescott's  Philip  the  Second. 

7* 


78  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

Spaniards  threw  tlieiii  into  groat  disorder.  The  tent  of  the 
Duke  of  Savoy  was  torn,  in  pieces,  and  he  liad  barely  time 
to  snatch  up  his  armour  and  escape,  with  his  forces,  to  safer 
quarters,  tliree  miles  down  the  river. 

This  cheap  success  elated  Moutmorency  as  if  it  had  been 
a  victory,  and  lie  hastened  to  pass  his  troops  across  the  river. 
But  the  boats  were  not  ready  ;  two  hours  were  spent  in  ob- 
taining them,  and  even  then  there  were  not  more  than  half 
a  dozen,  and  these  so  small  that  the  process  of  crossing  was 
slow.  The  overloaded  boats  sometimes  capsized  in  the 
stream,  and  sometimes  were  swamped  in  the  marshes. 
Some  of  the  men  were  drowned ;  others  sank  in  the  mire 
when  landing;  and  others  were  shot  down  by  the  advancing 
foe  when  climbing  up  the  steep  banks.  A  few  were  press- 
ing forward  to  the  gates  opened  to  receive  them.  Meanwhile 
the  strategy  of  the  enemy  was  changed. 

In  a  windmill  was  posted  Louis,  the  Prince  of  Conde, 
and  his  eye  ranged  over  the  Spanish  camp.  He  saw  that 
the  enemy  was  crossing  the  river  at  a  ford,  and  preparing 
to  sweep  down  upon  the  French  army.  He  advised  Mont- 
morency of  the  movement,  and  suggested  a  retreat.  The 
veteran  did  not  relish  advice  from  so  young  an  officer,  and 
testily  replied,  "I  was  a  soldier  before  the  Prince  of  Conde 
vas  born  ;  and,  by  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  I  trust  to  teach 
him  some  good  lessons  in  war  for  many  a  year  to  come." 
He  would  not  quit  the  ground  while  a  man  of  Andelot's 
relieving  force  remained  on  his  side  of  the  river.  The  few 
little  boats  never  had  done  such  straining  service,  and  yet, 
with  all  the  fatal  mishaps,  only  about  four  hundred  and 
fifty  men,*  wet,  weary  and  wounded,  threw  themselves  into 
Saint  Quentin  with  their  valoi'ous  leader  Andelot.    The  two 

*  Environ  cinq  cons  hommcs,  tons  soldats  d'^Iite.  Among  lliem 
was  the  fiimous  engineer  Saint  Remy — homme  fort  experiniente,  qui 
avoit  servi  si  utilcment  au  .siege  de  Metz. — Ferau,  Vie  dc  Coligny. 


FROM    CAMP    TO    PRISn.V.  79 

Coligny  brothers  kd  lliuir  men  to  the  wall.s  to  re.-:i.st  the 
force  of  Spauiards  who  still  remained  on  their  side  of  the 
Stream.  It  was  not  Saint  Quentin,  it  was  Paris  and  all 
France,  that  they  were  defending. 

When  Montmoi'ency  saw  the  last  boat  push  off,  he  gave 
instant  orders  for  a  retreat.  But  the  Spaniards,  under 
Count  Egmont,  pressed  upon  him.  Turning  to  an  old 
officer,  he  asked  what  was  best  to  do.  "  Had  you  asked 
me,"  was  the  reply,  "  two  hours  since,  I  could  have  told 
you  ;  it  is  now  too  late."  There  was  nothing  to  do  but 
face  about  and  fight  the  pursuers.  Desperate  was  the  clash 
of  arms  ;  many  a  brave  cavalier  fell ;  many  a  young  noble 
won  renown.  In  one  hour  about  sixteen  thousand  soldiers 
in  the  French  service  were  wounded,  slain  and  captured ; 
only  six  thousand  stood  in  the  broken  ranks.  Among 
many  noble  prisoners  was  Montmorency,  severely  wounded, 
and  humiliated  as  never  before.  Conde  escaped,  when 
flight  seemed  out  of  the  question,  to  display  his  prowess 
and  fall  at  last  in  the  cause  of  the  Huguenots. 

Saint  Quentin  still  was  defended  by  the  Colignys  and 
tlieir  eight  hundred  soldiers.  The  admiral  was  driven 
almost  to  despair  by  the  total  overthrow  of  the  main  army, 
of  which,  however,  he  knew  nothing  for  two  days;  but  he 
thought  that  the  longer  he  bravely  held  out  the  greater  the 
advantage  to  his  country.  He  might  keep  the  enemy  from 
marching  upon  Paris.  The  remaining  citizens  were  in 
terror,  wisliing  that  Coligny  would  steal  away  and  leave 
them  to  make  terms  of  peace.  Then  it  was  that  he  dis- 
j)layed  all  the  strength  of  his  character.  He  called  the 
p>'ople  together,  and  in  an  eloquent  speech  proved  to  them 
tliat  the  safety  of  their  country  was  to  be  valued  above 
their  property  and  lives.  He  caused  them  to  take  oath 
that  if  any  of  them  should  speak  of  surrender  he  should 
lose  his  head  for  it.     He  also  took  the  oath,  resigning  his 


80  ADMIRAT.   COLTONY. 

head  to  them  if  they  should  hear  liiiii  talk  of  yielding  up 
the  town.  Hope  was  not  all  gone,  for  the  Duke  of  Nevers 
had  gathered  together  the  wreck  of  the  defeated  army,  and 
mustered  new  forces  for  the  relief  of  Saint  Quentin.  He 
and  Coligny  managed  to  correspond  with  each  other. 

A  fisherman  pointed  out  a  hidden  path,  several  feet  under 
water,  through  which  a  hundred  and  fifty  unarmed  and 
half-drowned  men  joined  the  garrison.  For  seventeen 
days  the  walls  were  battered,  mines  were  dug  under  them 
and  breachas  were  made  by  shots  and  explosions.  The 
skilful  engineer.  Saint  Remy,  did  wonders  in  repairing  the 
broken  walls,  but  the  time  came  when  the  genius  of  the 
engineer  and  the  courage  of  the  admiral  were  of  no  further 
avail.  The  eleven  breaches  were  past  repair.  Again  the 
Duke  of  Savoy  assaulted  the  town  ;  after  an  hour's  severe 
fighting,  the  besiegers  were  repulsed  at  all  points  and  mor- 
tified to  madness.  Resting  a  little,  they  renewed  the  attack. 
Where  the  walls  were  most  broken  the  bravest  men  were 
placed,  and  the  Spaniards,  therefore,  aimed  at  a  tower 
which  had  been  left  almost  unguarded.  It  was  carried. 
The  as.«ailants  mounted  the  ramparts  and  claimed  the  mas- 
tery. Then  poured  in  Spaniards,  Germans  and  English, 
thirsting  for  blood,  prisoners  and  plunder.  Coligny  rushed 
to  the  spot,  willing  to  engage  the  enemy  single-handed. 
His  brother  and  a  few  followers  sprang  to  his  aid.  But  the 
men  were  overpowered,  trodden  down,  disarmed  and  cap- 
tured. Still  the  garrison  made  a  desperate  stand,  until 
almost  smothered  by  thick  ranks  of  soldiers.  At  last  the 
town  was  taken,  and  the  late  fierce  conflict  seemed  tame  in 
comparison  with  the  scenes  of  rioting  and  violence  which 
followed.  The  wretched  citizens  fled  in  dismay,  hiding  in 
corners  and  garrets  or  seeking  escape  through  the  broken 
walls. 

Coligny  was  smiting  the  foe  right  and  left,  having  near 


FROM    CAMP    TO    PRISON.  81 

liini  but  four  soldiers  and  liis  page,  uhen  Francisco  Diaz,  a 
simple  Spaniard,  and  his  comrades  drew  near,  casting  an 
eye  on  every  side,  and  more  intent  on  booty  than  prisoner?. 
A  Frenchman  took  him  aside  and  said,  "  That  is  the 
admiral."  * 

"What!"  exclaimed  Diaz,  rushing  upon  Coligny  and 
striking  him  several  times  with  his  sword;  "are  you  the 
admiral  ?" 

"  I  am,"  was  the  reply ;  "  and  remember  that  the  fortune 
of  arms  is  variable.  To-day  it  falls  ill  to  me ;  to-morrow 
it  may  fall  ill  to  you ;  this  should  oblige  you  to  deal  i'uirly 
and  justly  with  your  prisoners." 

"Let  me  have  a  part!"  cried  a  fierce  soldier,  eager  for 
spoil,  and  threatening  to  fall  upon  the  admiral,  who  kept 
him  at  bay.  The  soldiers  then  had  a  small  fray  between 
themselves.  This  new  Spanish  quarrel,  perhaps,  saved 
Coligny 's  life.     Diaz  became  sole  possessor  of  the  prisoner. 

But  Diaz  was  so  intent  upon  pillage  that  he  asked, 
"Where  is  there  a  good  house  for  me  to  sack?  Where  can 
I  put  you,  ]\I()nsieur  I'Admiral,  till  I  get  my  share?"  A 
place  was  found.     Coligny  was  ordered  to  wait  his  time. 

"You  do  very  wrong  to  seek  plunder,"  said  the  admiral. 
"  It  is  quite  enough  that  you  have  taken  me.  I  beg  of  you 
to  lead  me  away."  Diaz  conducted  him  to  the  tent  of  the 
Duke  of  Savoy,  and  hastened  back  to  the  ravages  of  the 
town.  Poor  hirelings  made  themselves  rich  with  spoils. 
By  night  the  soldiers  ransacked  houses,  churches,  and  even 
the  vaults  of  the  dead.     The  dying  lay  everywhere,  beg- 

*  Un  de  cciix  qui  <?toit  avoc  nioi,  dit  que  j'etois  radmiral  ;  Inis  il 
s'acklressa  a  inui  et  me  lira  quelques  coups  d'epee — Coliyui/,  Mrui.  de 
St.  Qucnthi. 

Full  aceoinits  of  tlie  battle  of  Saint  Quentin  in  Perau,  Vie  de  Co- 
lifjny  ;  Tliuaui,  Historia,  lib.  xix. ;  rrescott,  Tliilip  II.;  Motley,  Rise 
of  llie  Dutch  Kt  i>iil)lic.     I  have  followed  Colifjuy's  own  reports. 


82  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

ging  in  vain  for  mercy.  The  living,  stripped,  plundered 
and  outraged,  saw  their  houses  set  on  fire.  King  Philip, 
who  had  come  to  the  scene  of  his  proud  victory,  ordered 
that  all  the  living  inhabitants  should  be  banished.  A 
Spanish  soldier,  whe  kept  a  diary  of  all  that  occurred, 
says  of  the  desolations:  "I  wandered  through  the  place, 
gazing  at  all  this,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  it  was  another 
destruction  of  Jerusalem.  What  most  struck  me  was  to 
find  not  a  single  denizen  of  the  town  left  who  was  or  dared 
to  call  himself  French.  How  vain  and  transitory,  thought 
I,  are  the  things  of  this  world  !"  Philip  found  a  brighter 
side  to  the  victory,  and,  because  the  greater  battle  had  been 
fought  on  St.  Lawrence's  day,*  he  built  the  Escurial  in  the 
form  of  a  gridiron,  on  which  the  saint  was  said  to  have 
been  put  to  death.  It  would  have  been  quite  just  to  inter- 
pret the  gridiron  shape  of  the  palace  to  mean  that  he  would 
prove  one  of  the  fiercest  of  all  persecutors. 

Andelot,  of  whom  his  brother  said  in  his  report,  "he  often 
did  in  one  day  what  we  hard  toilers  would  not  have  done 
in  a  month,"  battled  on  for  an  hour  after  the  wall  which 
he  defended  was  broken,  and  finally  gave  uj)  his  sword.  He 
was  placed  in  a  tent  under  a  strong  guard.  Perhaps  the 
watchers  took  turns  in  the  business  of  pillage,  and  gave  the 
less  attention  to  him.  He  remembered  Milan,  and,  slipping 
out  under  the  canvas,  made  the  marshes  his  refuge.  Coligny 
wrote  the  next  day  to  his  king,  "  There  is  so  great  a  noise 
in  the  camp,  and  so  happy  evidence  that  my  brother  has 
escaped,  that  I  leave  it  for  him  to  tell  you  the  particulars 
of  the  battle."*  If  Andelot  went  speedily  to  the  court,  he 
found  a  cabal  f  of  the  Guises  in  comfortable  spirits  over  the 

*  Perau,  Vie  d'Aiidelot. 

t  Uii  cable  puissante  qui  ne  meditoit  rien  moins  que  de  tout  ren- 
verser  pour  i)arvenier  h  son  but ;  c'^toient  les  Guises,  princes  d^vorfe 
d'une  ambition  ellicn^e,  etc. — Perau. 


riJoM  cxMV  T(»  I'nisox.  83' 

pai)ture  of  the  admiral  and  Montinoroncy.  On  their  ruin 
flie  house  of  Lorraine  might  rise.  With  thera  patriotism 
was  among  the  vanities. 

"  I  do  not  know  where  I  sliall  be  sent,"  wrote  Coligny 
to  liis  king,  tliree  days  after  the  capture,  "but  I  pray  our 
Tyord  to  keep  you  in  good  health,  and  give  you  a  long  life."'  * 
The  next  month  he  was  sent  under  arms  to  tlie  castle  of 
Sluys  in  Flanders,  and  thence  to  Ghent,  wliere  on  the  very 
brink  of  the  grave  he  was  to  find  tlie  riches  of  the  gosiK'l. 

One  day  a  Spaniard  entered  his  quarters,  bowing,  smiling 
and  acting  the  most  obedient  with  a  grace  quite  impressive. 
]Ie  recognized  the  soldier.  "  I  come  to  pray  you  to  give  me 
a  certificate,  signed  with  your  own  hand,  that  I  captured 
your  honour  at  Saint  Quentin." 

"  You  shall  have  it."  Coligny  wrote  the  commendation, 
and  Francisco  Diaz  got  liis  reward — perhaps  a  second  time. 
He  must  have  learned  cool  impertinence  of  his  master 
Philip. 

It  has  been  said  by  his  enemies  that  Coligny  saved 
France,  although  he  lost  St.  Quentin.  In  the  eyes  of  men 
his  brilliant  conduct  seemed  to  result  in  failure,  but  out  of 
it  God  would  bring  success  to  his  own  cause.  Two  effects 
are  apparent — one  upon  the  hero,  and  another  upon  the 
French  Protestants.  If  Coligny  had  achieved  a  victory, 
none  can  tell  what  promotion  might  have  been  his  reward, 
nor  what  might  have  prevented  him  from  l)ccoming  a  de- 
voted Christian.  The  way  to  heaven  seemed  to  lie  through 
a  prison  and  through  deej)  adversity,  and  he  took  it.  In 
his  affliction  he  saw  the  hand  of  God,  and  gave  thanks. 
The  loss  of  St.  Quentin  was  to  him  a  mystery.  When  false 
reports  of  it  were  published,  he  took  his  pen  to  write  his 
l)age  of  history.  It  was  probably  after  divine  truth  had 
dawned  upon  his  mind.  His  simple  narrative  reveals  his 
*  Dale,  August  30,  1557, 


84  ADMIllAL    COMGNY. 

honesty,  liis  love  of  truth,  his  patriotism  and  his  ardent 
spiritual  feelings.  He  sees  that  God  has  Avilled  all  his  ad- 
versities, and  he  submits  as  one  who  has  just  come  through 
a  new  Christian  experience.  He  says:  "All  the  comfort 
which  I  have  is  that  which,  it  seems  to  me,  all  Christians 
ought  to  have ;  namely,  that  such  mysteries  do  not  take 
place  without  the  permission  and  will  of  God,  which  is 
always  good,  holy  and  reasonable,  and  which  effects  nothing 
without  just  reasons,  of  which,  however,  I  need  not  know  the 
cause,  and  of  which  also  I  have  no  gi'eat  need  to  inquire, 
but  rather  to  humble  myself  before  him  in  conforming  my- 
self to  his  will."* 

The  Protestants  of  France  were  the  gainers  by  the  affair 
of  St.  Quentin.  If  the  French  had  won  the  day,  the  king 
would  doubtless  have  vented  his  pride  and  his  joy  in  some 
severer  measures  against  those  who  were  already  under  the 
ban.  What  a  thank-offering,  the  blood  of  believers !  If 
Coligny  had  not  held  back  the  Spaniards,  if  they  had  swept 
down  upon  Paris,  and  if  they  had  put  France  under  foot, 
then  what  woe  to  the  Protestants  !  But  this  was  prevented. 
The  French  were  humiliated.  The  king  and  his  council 
had  something  else  to  think  of  than  persecuting  the  secret 
worshippers  of  God.  The  former  looked  to  the  defence  of 
the  endangered  State ;  the  latter  took  advantage  of  the 
crisis  and  quietly  promoted  the  interests  of  the  Reformed 
Church.  We  shall  find  the  Protestants  taking  a  bold  step 
in  the  advance.  The  State  is  chastised  in  order  that  the 
Church  may  grow. 

*  Discours  de  Gaspar  de  Colligny  {nic),  Seigneur  de  Chatillon,  Ad- 
miral de  France,  ou  sont  sommairement  continues  les  choses  qui  se 
sont  passees  durant  le  si^ge  de  Saint  Quentin.  Dated  December  29, 
1557. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A    BOLDER    PJiOTHSrAXTISar. 
(1553-lfJ58.) 

THE  conpccration  of  a  cliikl  was  tlie  occasion  for  organ- 
izing the  first  Protestant  church  in  Paris,  and  indeed 
tlie  first  successful  one  in  all  France.  The  materials  had 
become  abundant ;  a  model  of  construction  was  needed. 
Henry  II.  had  supposed  that  few  others  than  the  "common 
peo})le,"  in  their  (juiet  retreats,  dared  openly  to  avow  the 
Keformed  doctrines.  By  spying,  ferreting  out  and  hound- 
ing down  a  solitary  "gospeller"  here  and  there,  even  among 
the  more  intelligent  cla.sses,  he  hoped  to  keep  the  people  in 
terror  of  having  any  thoughts  of  their  own.  By  the  edict 
of  Chateaubriand  {\~hA )  all  right  of  heretics  to  proi)erty 
was  taken  away  ;  no  plea  was  allowed  them  in  the  courts ; 
they  were  forbidden  to  petition  the  king  or  the  i)arliament. 
Almost  every  year  had  its  new  and  severer  edict.  "That 
Avhich  strikes  one  most  forcibly  in  reading  the  criminal 
registers  under  this  reign  is  the  number  of  rigorous  meas- 
ures eiuicted  against  the  sectaries  of  Luther  and  Calvin. 
Scarcely  a  day  passed  without  some  judgment  in  the  case 
of  heresy."* 

But  truth  is  not  to  be  terrified  when  Heaven  orders  its 
advance.     It  laid  hold  upon  the  stronger  classes.     It   had 

*  Taillandicr,  Mt'inoirc  sur  Ics  Ilogistres  du  Parliament  de  Paris, 
])endant  le  R^gne  de  Ilcnri  II.,  Paris,  1842.  Voltaire  scarcely  touched 
tlie  great  subject  in  his  Ilistoire  du  Parliament. 

Vol.  I.— 8  85 


86  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

an  attraction  for  -wealthy  citizens,  busy  merchants,  shrewd 
bankers,  thinking  lawyers  and  students  of  history.  Knights 
and  nobles,  by  their  castle-hearths,  or  ev^en  in  their  tents 
and  by  their  camp-fires,  began  to  I'ead  the  witty  words  of 
Erasmus,  the  trenchant  letters  of  Ulric  Hutten,  or  the 
stately  sentences  of  Calvin's  "  Institutes."  No  embargo 
upon  foreign  books,  no  injunctions  served  upon  the  press  in 
France,  no  espionage  upon  readers  in  their  homes,  could 
sweep  back  the  sea  of  truth  that  rolled  in  upon  the  land. 
As  well  make  contraband  the  air  and  the  light;  as  well 
seal  the  fountains  that  supplied  the  rivers.  It  was  the 
old  fight  of  God's  word  against  human  power,  and  vain 
were  the  threats  of  man.  And  yet  the  Reform  was  thus 
far  a  private  work ;  there  was  need  of  an  organized 
Protestantism.  It  was  to  begin  with  "  the  Church  in  the 
house." 

There  came  to  sojourn  in  Paris  a  jMonsieur  la  Ferriere, 
somewhat  as  Aquilla  lodged  in  Corinth.  He  sought  a  lib- 
erty which  his  province  of  Maine  had  denied  him.  His 
house  showed  him  to  be  a  man  of  wealth  ;  his  conversation 
proved  his  learning  and  piety.  He  knew  how  to  get  upon 
the  track  of  the  Chriftandiiis,  the  gospellers,  the  secret  dis- 
ciples, whether  in  the  Latin  Quarter,  where  Calvin  once  held 
the  little  meetings,  and  where  the  fires  had  not  gone  out,  or 
within  the  halls  of  the  palace.  He  put  himself  in  friendly 
relations  with  them.  They  met  at  his  house  for  w^orship ; 
they  shared  with  him  in  the  tender  interest  which  he  felt 
for  his  new-born  child. 

"  It  must  be  consecrated  to  God,"  said  he ;  and  we  have 
nothing  now  to  do  with  the  correctness  of  all  his  views. 
"  What  if  it  should  die  without  being  given  to  hira  I  I 
cannot  bear  the  thought  of  having  it  baptized  by  a  Romish 
priest.  I  want  no  superstitious  rites  performed.  And  Ge- 
neva is  too  far  away ;  we  cannot  go  there  with  the  child. 


A    BOLDER    PROXESTANTLSM.  87 

Let  us  elect  some  one  among  us  to  be  our  pastor  and  to 
administer  the  holy  sacraments." 

Surprise  was  upon  the  face  of  all  who  hoard  this  proposal. 
AVho  of  them  was  fit  for  the  solemn  office?  What  right 
had  they  to  call  any  one?  "  It  will  cause  trouble,"  replied 
the  cautious,  who  for  7uore  than  twenty  years  had  known 
the  deadly  cost  of  fortitude.  "  Ilcniember  how  the  flock  at 
Meaux,  and  then  at  ]\[etz,  was  scattered.  "We  shall  all  be 
banished  or  burned." 

"Courage  is  a  proof  of  faith,"  answered  the  earnest  La 
Ferriere,  "and  faith  will  secure  God's  defence.  It  is  time 
for  us  to  have  a  church." 

The  good  man  spoke  from  his  heart,  as  one  raised  up  for 
a  great  crisis.  He  carried  the  minds  of  the  devout  people. 
They  knelt  and  in  tears  asked  God's  will.  They  fasted, 
they  consulted  the  divine  word,  they  made  it  the  mighty 
question;  they  met  again,  and  took  the  solemn  resolution. 
The  line  between  doubt  and  decision  was  crossed.  The 
moment  for  an  election  came.  AVhat  if  God  should  throw 
confusion  into  their  deliberations?  They  cast  their  votes. 
One  name  exj)rcssed  the  choice  of  all  ;  it  was  that  of  the 
young  John  Mayon,  called  also  De  Launay  and  La  Kiviere. 

In  the  town  of  Angers  lived  a  rich  lawyer,  De  Launay, 
who  hated  the  Reformation.  Hearing  that  his  son  John, 
whom  he  had  sent  into  Switzerland,  had  tasted  the  "  here- 
sies" of  Geneva,  he  instantly  called  him  home,  and  set 
him  down  to  study  law.  The  son  obeyed.  He  listened  to 
all  the  persuasions  and  warnings  of  his  father;  then  came 
tears,  entreaties  and  threats,  but  he  w'as  unmoved  from  his 
iiiith.  "  Your  father  intends  to  have  you  arrested,"  said 
certain  friends.  "  Escape  at  once.  We  will  aid  you."  He 
saw  that  he  must  leave  father,  mother,  wealth  and  honours 
for  the  Gospel's  sake.  He  fled  to  Paris,  cast  his  lot  with 
the  gospellers,  won  their  esteem,  and  now  received  their 


■88  ADMIRAL    COLIGXY. 

unanimous  call  to  a  sacred  office.  He  was  but  twenty-two 
years  of  age.  He  could  not  decline  a  service  for  the  Church 
under  the  cross.  He  was  properly  ordained — by  whom  we 
know  not — and  his  ministry  began  with  power  from  on  high. 

The  heart  of  La  Ferriere  was  more  than  gratified. 
AVith  the  baptism  of  his  child  an  infant  church  arose  in 
Paris  during  the  September  of  1555.  Elders  and  deacons 
were  chosen,  and  such  rules  established  as  the  wretched 
times  would  permit.  "  It  was  organized,"  says  Beza,  "  ac- 
cording to  the  example  of  the  Church  in  primitive  times."* 
A  model  was  now  furnished  to  all  the  Reformed  of  the 
kingdom.  It  was  imitated  with  astonishing  rapidity.  That 
very  year  John  de  Launay  went  to  his  native  town,  whence 
his  father  had  driven  him,  and  organized  a  church  ;  other 
churches  were  founded  at  Meaux  and  in  the  districts  of 
Poitiers,  Saintonge,  and  Guyenne.  Within  the  next  three 
years  there  were  scores  of  them  in  the  various  provinces. 
King  Henry  did  not  estimate  the  growth  of  an  organiza- 
tion which  was  gathering  to  itself  the  majority  of  the 
nobles,  enlisting  the  services  of  princes,  and  destined  to 
shake  the  kingdom  by  its  stately  tread,  almost  sweep  away 
the  throne  in  its  advance,  and  make  the  name  of  Huguenot 
glorious  through  all  generations.  His  father  had  aided  in 
securing  Protestant  liberty  to  Geneva;  his  minions  had 
sent  Calvin  thither  as  an  exile,  and  now  that  exile  was  be- 
ginning to  hold  an  influence  over  France  even  greater  than 
that  of  her  kings. 

There  were,  however,  sharp  eyes  turned  upon  the  little 
band  of  the  faithful  in  Paris.  Monks  and  priests  did  not 
cease  to  thunder  aloud  from  their  pulpits  against  their  as- 
semblies, and  represent  them  as  guilty  of  profaning  the 
sacred  mysteries,  and  practicing  the  darkest  crimes  under 

*  Ilistolre  ties  Esrli^es  Reform^es,  liv.  ii. ;  Piianx,  Histoire  de  la 
Reformation  Fran9iuse,  liv.  vii. ;  Laval,  Hist.  Ref.  in  France,  bk.  i. 


A    BOLDER    PROTESTANTISM.  89 

pretence  of  worship.  The  ])eople  g-ave  credit  to  these 
slanders,  and  shuddered  to  think  tliat  there  dwelt  among 
them  sucli  an  odious  immoral  fraternity.  From  one  liouse 
to  another  tlie  faithful  transferred  their  assemblies,  lioping 
to  fhnle  the  vigilance  of  the  magistrates.  For  two  years 
no  attack  was  nnide  upon  them  as  a  body,  and  they  engaged 
the  mansion  called  the  Hotel  de  Bertoniier,  for  a  church. 
It  stood  in  the  street  St.  Jacques,  near  the  colleges  of  the 
university,  at  the  time  when  the  campaigns  of  Guise  and 
Coligny  drew  the  public  attention  from  the  Protestants. 

Just  when  the  losses  at  Saint  Quentin  threw  all  Paris 
into  alarm,  and  when  every  cloud  of  dust  might  betoken 
the  march  of  the  S])aniards,  the  Protestants  met  quietly  and 
more  boldly  in  their  place  of  worshi]).  Who  would  be  seek- 
ing victims  for  the  stake  at  such  a  time?  Was  not  Tvoman- 
ism  .satisfied  with  the  fifty  thousand  who  had  been  slain  as 
martyrs  during  twenty-five  years?  One  evening  three  or 
four  hundred  Protestants,  of  all  ranks  and  from  all  quar- 
ters of  Paris,  met  to  sing  the  Psalms  of  jNIarot,  listen  to 
their  pastor,  and  celebrate  the  Lord's  Supper.  "  Among 
them  were  many  ladies  of  the  court,  some  of  them  closely 
attached  to  the  queen.  The  historians  appear  to  me  to 
have  taken  too  little  notice  of  this  fact,"  says  Lacratelle, 
Avho  adheres  to  the  Roman  Church,  but  has  a  fair  appreci- 
ation of  the  Reform;  "I  see  in  it  a  first  indication  of  the 
policy  and  character  of  Catherine  de  Medici.  Her  rival, 
Diana,  was  the  most  cruel  enemy  of  the  Protestants.  The 
queen,  without  loving  them,  doubtless  held  some  credit 
among  them,  and  she  sought  to  win  their  confidence."*  She 
had  Protestant  ladies  in  her  court,  and  allowed  them  to 
choose  their  own  place  of  worship. 

Students  of  the  colleges  and  priest."  of  the  Sorbonne 
watched  the  people  gathering  in  the  Rue  St.  Jacques.    With 

*  Lacratelle,  Guerres  de  Religion,  liv.  iii. 

8« 


90  ADMIRAL   COIJGNY. 

horror  they  tliought  of  tlic  mass  being  displaced  by  the 
Lord's  8uj)per,  and  wliat  else  they  knew  not.  It  was  a 
good  hour  to  show  their  zeah  They  ran  about  exciting  the 
alarm  of  the  citizens.  The  word  passed  from  house  to 
house.  Whispering  neighbours  met  in  groups,  blustered 
and  made  threats,  seized  whatever  cheap  and  rude  missiles 
they  could  find,  and  went  lumbering  along  to  the  scene. 

The  simple-hearted  worshippers,  eager  for  the  divine 
word  as  those  of  Troas  to  whom  Paul  preached  nearly 
through  the  whole  night,  innocently  allowed  the  tumult  to 
increase  by  the  length  of  their  services.  It  was  near  mid- 
night when  they  opened  the  doors  to  go  home.  But  what 
was  their  terror  when  they  were  greeted  on  the  threshold 
with  a  volley  of  stones !  They  saw  the  windows  of  the 
houses  lighted  up,  so  that  no  Calvinist  might  escape  under 
cover  of  the  darkness.*  Torches  glared  in  the  streets ; 
cries,  shouts,  hootings,  shrieks,  curses  and  threats  filled  the 
air.  More  distant  citizens  and  the  guards  heard  the  uproar, 
and  tliey  grasped  the  arms  which  they  had  ready  for  the 
descent  of  the  victors  of  Saint  Quentin.f  The  tumidt  be- 
came general.  Some  asked,  "  Have  the  Spaniards  come  to 
the  gates  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,"  was  the  answer,  "  but  there  arc  wretches  here 
who  have  sold  the  kingdom." 

"Cursed  traitors!"  cried  others.  "  They  rejoice  in  the 
misfortunes  of  France.  Death  to  the  heretics  !  "  The  street 
was  blockaded  by  the  rabble. 

The  pastor  and  elders  sought  to  prepare  the  flock  for  the 
worst.  "Let  us  pray  that  God  may  come  to  our  aid,"  said 
a  good  old  man,  and  they  fell  upon  their  knees,  lifting  their 
hands  to  heaven.  Their  voices  were  lost  to  human  ears  by 
the  loud  derisions  of  the  mob.     The  divine  ear  heard  them. 

"  What  shall  we  do?"  inquired  some  of  those  who  bore 
*  Lacratelle.  f  Laval. 


A    liOLDKU    I'U(JTi:.STAXTIS>f.  91 

swords  at  their  sides,  a  part  of  a  gentleman's  outfit  at  tliat 
day.  "  We  cannot  expect  a  miracle  from  God,  nor  mercy 
from  cruel  men.  Shall  we  tear  up  the  seats,  barricade  the 
doors  and  wait  for  the  king's  guards  to  deliver  us?" 

"  That  would  be  certain  death,"  said  others.  "  We  must 
defend  ourselves,  and  if  need  be  cut  our  way  througii  the 
crowd."  They  started,  presenting  a  bold  front  to  the  riot- 
ers, a  part  of  whom  fell  back  a  little,  while  another  part 
hurled  all  sorts  of  missiles  and  brandished  their  i)ikes.  A 
goodly  number  escaped  with  their  lives,  though  numy  were 
severely  wounded.  Only  one  man  fell ;  he  was  trodden 
down,  and  so  mutilated  as  to  lose  almost  all  likeness  to  a 
human  being.* 

What  of  those  who  had  not  the  courage  to  follow  their 
leaders?  !Most  of  them  were  women  and  children.  They 
sought  to  fly  through  the  garden,  but  every  path  was 
watched.  They  barricaded  the  doors  and  windows,  and 
waited  for  the  dawii.  Even  then  they  were  beaten  back 
when  they  attempted  to  escape.  They  heanl  the  blows  of 
men  who  were  forcing  the  doors,  and  with  clasped  hands 
begged  for  mercy  ;  but  the  mob  was  jiitiless.  Just  then 
arrived  one  of  the  king's  officers  and  his  band  of  sergeants. 
At  the  sight  of  so  many  hel|)less  women  and  chihlren,  ex- 
posed to  every  outrage,  his  heart  was  touched  ;  he  shed 
tears;  his  first  emotions  were  humane.  But  when  he 
learned  that  these  innocents  had  dared  to  observe  the 
Lord's  Supper  instead  of  the  Komish  mass,  his  j)ity  gave 
way  to  anger.  He  must  execute  the  law,  and  it  had  no 
mercy  for  heretics.  "We  desist  from  reciting  the  insults  and 
outrages  inflicted,  while  fully  one  hundred  and  twenty  of 
them  were  led  to  prison. f 

*  I'^iio  exoepto,  qui  in  turba  ocoisiis  est,  says  Dc  Thou, 
t  Po  Tliou  luis  it,  "  fere  exx  ;"  Lacratclle,  "  Pins  de  denx  cents  per- 
ponucs  fiirent  arretees  et  livrees  il  niillc  outrauos,"  etc. 


92  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

The  slanders  were  renewed.  Nameless  crimes  and  shock- 
ing imj^ieties  were  charged  upon  "  those  of  the  religion." 
It  was  the  old  libel  of  the  ancient  i^agans  against  the  early- 
Christians.  Yet  the  very  coarseness  of  the  charges  led  to 
in(juiry,  and  the  truth  was  found  by  those  who  had  never 
sought  it  befoi'e.  The  parliament  was  too  mild  for  the 
Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  and  he  arranged  it  to  have  the  ac- 
cused tried  before  Judge  INIeusnier,  a  man  guilty  of  perjury 
and  very  profligate.  This  was  too  much,  for  the  judge  was 
so  unjust  that  his  case  was  taken  in  liand,  and  only  a  mob 
saved  him  from  the  pilloiy  and  banishment.  And  yet 
some  were  to  take  the  fiery  chariot  to  heaven.  One  was 
an  aged  deacon  ;  another  a  lawy^er ;  and  a  third  was  the 
young  widow  Philippa  de  Luns,  who  had  come  to  Paris  in 
order  to  place  herself  in  the  fold  of  the  Reformed  Church. 
Such  was  the  general  result:  a  few  more  martyrs  and  many 
believers  placed  where  they  bore  new  testimony  to  the  sus- 
taining power  of  religion.  Beza  speaks  of  those  who  were 
closely  confined  in  the  prison  of  the  Chatelet,  and  adds : 
"However,  God,  who  always  takes  care  of  his  own,  provided 
that  they  should  not  remain  without  consolations.  For,  in 
consequence  of  the  great  number  of  the  prisoners,  the  jailors 
had  been  forced  to  put  several  in  the  same  place,  so  that 
among  them  there  always  chanced  to  be  some  one  endowed 
with  more  fortitude  than  liis  com{)anions,  to  give  courage 
to  the  others.  On  all  sides  psalms  were  sung,  and  tlie  whole 
Chatelet  resounded  with  the  praises  of  God — a  sufficient 
proof  of  the  singular  confidence  they  had  in  their  own 
hearts  of  their  own  innocence." 

At  Geneva,  Calvin  and  Farel  lifted  up  their  voices,  and 
roused  all  Protestant  Euroj)e  to  intercede  for  the  ])risoners. 
Calvin  raised  his  mighty  pen  against  the  sword,  the  fagot 
and  the  axe.  He  wrote  to  King  Henry,  laying  before  him 
an   abstract  of  the   creed  of  the  Reformed  churches  of 


A    BOLDER   PROTESTANTISM.  93 

France,*  and  j)k'a(lin<;  liiin  "to  luivo  compassion  on  those 
Avlio  seek  but  to  serve  God  in  simplicity,  while  they  loyally 
acquit  themselves  of  tlu^ir  duty  toward  you."  He  also 
wrote  to  "  the  women  detained  in  prison  at  Paris,"  remind- 
ing them  of  "the  courage  and  constancy  of  women  at  the 
death  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  when  the  apostles  had 
forsaken  him,  how  they  continued  by  him  with  marvellous 
constancy  ;  and  how  a  woman  was  the  messenger  to  an- 
nounce his .  resurrection.  ...  If  God  then  so  honoured 
and  fortified  them,  think  you  not  that  he  will  do  so  now? 
How  many  thousands  of  women  have  spared  neither  blood 
nor  life  to  maintain  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  and  to  an- 
nounce his  reign!  Has  not  their  martyrdom  borne  fruit? 
Has  not  their  faith  obtained  the  glory  of  the  world  as  well 
as  that  of  other  martyrs?"  He  appealed  to  the  Swiss 
churches  to  make  a  collection  for  "the  brethren  of  Paris," 
saying,  "  Though  money  is  not  readily  "to  be  found  in  these 
parts,  I  shall  assuredly  so  bestir  myself,  should  I  be  obliged 
to  pawn  my  head  and  feet,  that  it  will  be  found  forthcom- 
ing here." 

Among  the  noble  captives  was  the  wife  of  the  Chevalier 
Rentigny,  standard-bearer  of  the  Duke  of  Guise.  Every 
effort  was  made  to  shake  her  faith,  but  in  the  winter,  when 
her  cell  was  cold,  Beza  wrote :  "  Most  of  the  captives  hold 
out  very  courageously,  so  that  a  lady,  the  most  distin- 
guished of  all  the  prisoners  for  the  nobility  of  her  birth 
and  the  wealth  of  her  friends,  openly  refused  the  pardon 
offered  her,  spurning  the  tears  and  prayers  both  of  her 
father  [the  Heigneur  de  Kambouillet]  and  of  her  husband — 
one  worthy  certainly  of  being  commended  to  the  Lord  by 

*  Calvin's  Letters,  Presbyterian  Board  of  I'ublieation,  vol.  iii..  No. 
cccclxxx.  He  Raid :  "  You  have  here.  Sire,  an  undisguised  and  un- 
varnished summary  of  our  faitli.  .  .  .  We  hope  our  apology  will  be 
admiited  by  you  as  reasonable.'' 


94  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

name."  Slic  was  encouraged  by  a  letter  from  Calvin,  and 
continued  faithful  through  all  the  winter.  But  her  judges 
threatened,  and  her  husband  entreated,  until  she  finally  con- 
sented to  hear  mass  in  her  prison.  She  listened  to  it,  but 
took  no  part  in  the  service.  Scarcely  was  she  set  at  liberty, 
when  she  blushed  for  her  weakness,  and  begged  a  pardon 
from  the  Lord  and  from  the  pastors  of  the  church  at  Paris. 
One  of  the  pastors  Avrote  to  Calvin,  saying:  "We  have 
consented  that  Madame  de  Kentigny  should  return  to  her 
husband,  because  he  is  labouring  under  a  very  severe 
illness,  and  he  made  us  the  most  ample  promises  that  he 
would  not  interfere  with  her  faith.  Already  the  horses  had 
been  purchased  to  convey  her  to  your  city  [on  the  Avay  to 
Italy].  Certainly,  up  to  this  moment  she  has  borne  herself 
most  courageously."  Calvin  kindly  wrote  to  her  again, 
saying :  "  Lay  it  down  as  a  rule  of  conduct,  that  you  are 
not  to  fill  up  the  measure  of  your  offences  by  adding  others 
to  their  number."  She  adhered  to  this  good  rule  for  trying 
times.  De  Thou  relates  that  she  was  received  among  the 
queen's  ladies  of  honour,  several  of  whom  secretly  pro- 
fessed the  Keformed  religion. 

"We  present  her  as  a  specimen*  of  the  sufferers  in  whom 
all  Protestant  Europe  felt  a  deep  interest.  The  heroism 
displayed  was  equal  to  that  of  Coligny  at  Saint  Quentin. 
It  was  bringing  some  relief.  The  pen  of  Calvin  had 
waked  up  the  German  j^riuces ;  they  laid  their  protests 
before  the  French  king,  and  he  arrested  the  work  of  mar- 
tyrdom. Some  of  the  younger  prisoners  were  sent  to 
monasteries  to  be  cured  of  heresy,  and,  not  being  very 
narrowly  watched,  certain  of  them  escaped.     Others  heard 

*  Other  cases  are  portrayed  in  Calvin's  Letters,  many  of  whicli  were 
were  written  to  the  church  of  Paris,  to  individual  suflerei-s  and  to 
various  persecuted  churches  of  France.  These  letters  bear  witness  to 
the  rapid  growth  of  the  Keformation  in  the  French  kingdom. 


A    BOLDER    PUOTESTANTISM.  95 

mass  in  prison,  without  assenting  to  it,  and  were  absolved. 
But  not  a  few  said,  "  Let  come  what  will,  we  cannot  yield  ; 
we  will  die  in  our  colls  first."  King  lloiiry  needed  the 
support  of  the  Protestants. 

The  perils  of  the  nation  again  drew  the  public  mind  from 
the  Reformed  Church.  Francis,  now  Duke  of  Guise,  had 
won  small  success  in  Italy,  lie  was  recalled  to  take  the 
l)lace  of  Coligny  and  Montmorency.  It  was  on  his  speedy 
journey  that  the  Duchess  Ren^-e  saved  so  many  thousands 
of  his  troops.  In  Paris  the  king  said  to  him,  "  You  are 
come  to  save  France."  The  streets  rang  with  cheers :  "The 
hero  of  Metz  will  retrieve  the  loss  of  Saint  Quentin." 

"  Let  us  have  him  made  viceroy,"  said  the  Guise  faction, 
who  sought  to  take  every  advantage  of  the  popular  enthu- 
siasm and  elevate  him  above  the  unfortunate  Montmorency 
and  the  admiral.'*" 

"  Vice-Roi?"  replied  the  wiser  ones,  trying  how  the  word 
would  sound.  "  Rather  a  new  title  in  France.  The  people 
have  hardly  got  to  that  yet.  Let  us  create  for  him  the 
office  of  lieutenant-general  of  the  king's  armies,  which  will 
amount  to  the  same  thing.  It  will  put  him  above  the  con- 
stable, and  the  Colignys  may  then  make  the  best  of  it." 
Thus  they  whispered  their  ambitious  views,  but  took  pains 
to  say  openly  that  the  title  was  only  a  compliment. 

The  office  was  granted  by  king  and  by  Parliament,  the 
president  being  a  friend  to  the  house  of  Lorraine.  The 
duke  was  sent  to  take  Calais  from  the  English — a  bold 
undertaking,  for  it  was  then  the  Gibraltar  of  England, 
"the  brightest  jewel  in  her  crown."  For  two  hundred 
years  she  had  held  it,  and  France  had  not  dared  to  wrest 
it  from  her  grasp.  Over  the  gate  had  long  been  written 
this  insolent  couplet : 

*  Pioposerotit  de  la  faire  Vice-Roi ;  mais  ce  titrc  ^taiit  noveaii  en 
France. — D'Ai(ri(jinj,  Vie  de  Guise. 


96  ADMIRAL  COLIGNY. 

"Tlicn  shall  Frendimen  Calais  win, 
AVheii  iron  and  lead  like  cork  shall  swim." 

Already  had  Coligny  spied  out  the  roads  across  the 
marshes,  drawn  maps,  formed  a  plan  for  its  recapture  and 
laid  it  before  his  king,  sent  forward  the  heroic  Bi'iquemaut 
in  disguise  to  enter  and  examine  the  works,  and  soon  he 
had  expected  to  place  the  French  banner  over  the  walls. 
But  the  call  to  Saint  Quentin  had  drawn  him  away  from 
the  coast.  Did  Guise  profit  by  all  this?  The  point  has 
been  disputed.  It  appears  that  when  he  laid  his  own  plan 
before  the  king,  Henry  did  not  approve  of  it,  but  sent  to 
Madame  Coligny,  asking  for  the  papers  of  her  husband. 
She  loaned  them.  Guise  read  them,  but  was  not  yet  con- 
vinced. The  king  brought  in  one  of  Coliguy's  officers,  who 
had  aided  him  in  forming  the  first  plan,  and  it  was  adopted, 
to  the  satisfaction  of  Andelot,  who  served  in  the  campaign. 

Leading  his  troops  over  the  frozen  marches  and  dikes, 
Guise  surprised  the  ancient  town  on  the  first  day  of  the  year 
1558,  and  in  eight  days  recovered  what  Edward  III.  had 
won  by  a  twelve  months'  siege.  Other  towns  were  speedily 
captured,  and  French  glory  was  restored.  A  nation  was 
loud  in  its  praise  of  the  conqueror.  He  was  named  "  the 
saviour  of  his  country."  An  odious  parallel  was  drawn 
between  the  new  lieutenant-general  and  the  admiral.  The 
people  cared  little  to  know  that  Coligny  had  furnished  the 
plan  of  the  siege.*     Guise  had  executed  it,  and  that  was 

*  "C'^toit  I'ouvrage  de  Coligni." — Perau,  Vie  de  Coligny.  ''Coligni 
avoit  forni^  avant  sa  prison  le  dessein  d'attaquer,  .  .  .  et  form^  le 
plan  du  siege  qu'on  trouva  dans  ses  papiers ;  il  fiit  donn^  au  Due  de 
Guise,  qui  le  suivit,  et  prit  la  place." — D'Attvir/ny,  Vie  de  Guise. 
These  are  not  "^crivains  Protestans,"  who  seek  to  glorify  "les  talens 
et  les  services  de  I'Amiral  de  Coligni,"  as  Lacratelle  urges;  yet,  as  he 
well  says,  "Le  merite  de  rexecution  est  tout,  dans  les  operations  de 
ce  genre." — Thuani  Historia;  Gamier,  Historic  de  France. 


A    BOLDER    PROTESTANTISM.  97 

enough.  Justice  now  accords  wisdom  to  the  one  and 
splendid  military  skill  to  the  other.  But  in  that  day  the 
event  contrihuted  to  the  formation  of  two  parties,  whose 
w^atchwords  w-ere  the  names  of  these  leaders.  Coligny,  who 
had  saved  France,  was  treated  with  ingratitude. 

By  what  measures  should  this  victory  be  celebrated  ? 
The  Lorraine  brothers  had  two  proposals  to  make.  The 
cardinal  had  been  anxious  for  an  edict  which  would  estab- 
lisli  in  France  the  Spanish  Inquisition.  The  parliament 
had  refused  to  grant  it.  He  now  took  courage.  What  a 
j)r()of  of  gratitude  for  the  recent  successes  would  it  be  to 
crush  out  all  liberty  of  thought  and  worship  !  But  the  par- 
liament again  hesitated.  The  title  "  Inquisition"  was  odious ; 
tlie  .Spanish  model  was  too  perfect  in  horrors,  too  elaborate 
in  its  means  of  detecting  secret  opinions,  and  too  thoroughly 
furnished  with  hidden  engines  of  death,  for  the  French  peo- 
ple. A  modified  form  was  adopted.  A  court  of  inquiry 
was  appointed,  of  which  there  were  three  members — the 
cardinals  of  Lorraine,  of  Bourbon,  and  of  Chatillon.*  The 
last  was  Odet  Coligny,  who  was  beginning  to  look  into  the 
books  which  his  brother  had  read  in  the  prison  at  Milan, 
and  to  cherish  a  secret  regard  for  the  Protestants.  They 
had  power  to  arrest,  imprison,  arraign  and  condemn  sus- 
pected heretics,  without  distinction  of  rank  or  quality.  And 
yet  they  did  little.  Was  it  because  they  dared  not,  or  did 
Odet's  gentle  counsels  prevail  ?  It  was  rather  because  of  a 
limit  put  to  the  power  of  the  tribunal.  The  accused  had 
the  right  of  appeal  to  the  civil  courts.  This  did  not  suit 
the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine.  Simply  to  declare  men  heretics 
was  not  enough ;  they  must  be  exterminated.  "  This  re- 
striction," says  the  Abbe  (xarnier,  "  without  doubt  .saved 
the  nation  from  a  yoke  winch   it  detested" — a  yoke  that 

*  Tailli^ndier,  Rcsistresdu  Parliament ;  Garnicr, Histoircde  France, 
tome  xxvii. ;  Lacratelle,  Bcza,  Laval. 
Vol.  I._9 


98  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

coukl  not  fiiil  to  be  resisted  by  "  the  number  and  rank  of 
the  partisans  of  the  new  doctrine,  one  of  whom  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  tribunal." 

The  Duke  of  Guise  had  his  scheme.  The  conqueror 
asked  that  his  niece,  Mary  of  Scots,  might  be  speedily  mar- 
ried to  the  Dauphin  Francis.  She  must  be  nuide  sure  of 
being  the  queen  of  France,  and  then  the  Guises  would  have 
the  kingdom  under  their  sway.  Even  Catherine  de  Medici 
yielded,  and  the  nuptial. arrangements  were  made  on  a  grand 
scale.  The  occasion  was  to  give  the  duke  a  new  triumph 
over  all  the  Montmorencies,  for  he  acted  craftily  in  order 
to  obtain  the  charge  of  Grand-Master  of  France.*  Woe 
then  to  the  constable  and  his  nej^hews!  The  Protestant 
nobles  shook  their  heads,  but  smothered  their  wrath  and 
put  on  a  good  face  at  the  brilliant  wedding. 
■  Here  we  meet  with  Jeanne,  the  only  surviving  child  of 
Henry  d'Albret  and  Margaret  of  Navarre,  now  in  her 
thirtieth  year.  She  had  grown  up  a  Protestant  in  princi- 
ple, and  yet,  as  her  mother  had  remained,  she  formally  ad- 
hered to  the  Roman  Church.  Self-possessed,  attractive, 
frank,  ready  in  s])eech,  decided  in  will,  highly  educated, 
well  versed  in  public  affairs,  so  liberal  that  her  mother  often 
lectured  her  for  draining  her  purse,  so  patriotic  that  she 
felt  proud  of  the  little  kingdom  of  Navarre,  and  so  heroic 
in  her  nature  that  the  stately  and  romantic  were  apparent, 
it  is  no  wonder  that  princely  rivals  sued  for  her  hand.  At 
the  wedding  of  Francis  and  Mary  of  Scots,  she  saw  the 
Duke  of  Guise,  whose  wealth  and  pretensions  and  all 
royal  endorsements  had  failed  to  commend  him  as  a  suitor; 
but  she  did  not  see  the  old  Baron  ]\Iontmorency,  who  had 
carried  her  in  his  arms  to  the  altar,  where  she  refused  her 
pledge  to  be  the  wife  of  the  Duke  of  Cleves.  All  that  for- 
mality was  set  aside  by  the  pope,  and  now  she  was  the  wife 
*  D'Auvigny,  Yie  de  Guise;  Lacratelle. 


A    BOT.DEIl    PROTESTANTISM.  99 

of  Anthony  Bourbon,  whom  she  was  finding  to  be  utterly 
wortliless  and  dissipated.  Slie  was  now  queen  of  Navarre. 
In  her  little  realm  she  had  done  much  to  circulate  the  Bible, 
sustain  true  preachers  and  promote  a  reform  after  her  mo- 
tlier's  pattern.  Hence  she  and  her  husband  were  reckoned 
among  the  Protestant  princes,  and  were  under  the  suspicions 
of  King  Henry.  In  part  for  their  own  relief  they  had  come 
to  the  wedding ;  hoping  also  to  do  something  tliat  might 
lessen  the  dominant  power  of  the  Guises.* 

Near  the  University  of  Paris  there  was  an  open  space  of 
ground  called  the  Pre  mix  Clercs.  It  was  the  students' 
promenade.f  On  this  the  Calvinists  began  to  meet  when 
the  evenings  were  pleasant.  They  walked,  conversed,  sang 
and  listened  to  kindly  words  from  their  pastors.  "When 
l^-inces  wed,  Protestants  may  worship,"  said  one  to  another, 
while  the  gay  festivities  were  proceeding  at  the  court. 

"  Be  cautious,"  was  the  reply  of  the  fearful,  "  or  we  shall 
have  another  Saint  Jacques  affair." 

"Not  while  the  king  and  queen  of  Navarre  are  at  the 
palace,"  replied  the  faithful.  Soon  it  was  whispered  that 
these  royal  personages  would  appear  on  the  commons.  The 
word  went  abroad ;  a  vast  crowd  gathered,  some  report  it 
five  thousand.  All  sang  tiieir  favourite  Psalms,  from  the 
version  of  Clement  Marot,  to  the  popular  airs  of  the  day. 
It  was  like  the  singing  of  the  Marseillaise  in  other  times. 
The  king  and  queen  of  Navarre  came,  followed  by  a  train 
of  gentlemen^  and  ladies.  His  favourite  Psalm  was, 
"Judge  and  avenge  my  cause,  O  Lord,"  and  he  had  good 
reason  to  sing  it  as  a  solemn  prayer.  Amid  so  much  music 
party  spirit  was  calmed  ;  people  almost  forgot  whether  they 

*  C'olqiihoiin,  Life  of  Jeanne  d'Albret;  Freer,  Life  of  Jeanne 
d'Albret. 

t  "  Le  rendezvous  des  oisifs  de  Paris." — Puaux. 
X  Gentils-liomme,  a  then  new  term  for  the  nobles. 


100  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

were  orthodox  or  heretic ;  it  was  a  grand  hour  of  joy. 
There  was  scarcely  a  more  interesting  scene  in  the  entire 
history  of  the  French  Reform.  A  wild,  wandering  poet, 
living  by  his  wits,  and  revealing  his  genius  by  some  bright 
lines,  had  made  the  voice  of  song  a  tremendous  power  in 
the  land.  He  had  supplied  a  great  want.  The  Psalms 
came  to  be  sung  in  cottage  and  palace,  by  the  mother  at 
the  cradle,  by  the  old  man  at  the  gate  of  heaven ;  by  the 
Huguenots  entering  into  towns  as  conquerors,  and  by  the  Hol- 
landers as  they  broke  into  cathedrals  and  hurled  the  idols 
to  the  ground.  One  glorious  hymn  of  praise  was  now 
breaking  upon  the  ears  of  the  Sorbonnists,  and  none  of 
them  went  forth  to  raise  a  mob.  The  citizens,  young  and 
old,  of  all  ranks,  heard  of  the  singing  processions,  left  their 
homes,  ran  to  the  spot  and  climbed  the  trees,  listening  with 
a  delight  that  was  dangerous  to  Romanism.  It  is  said  that 
these  processions  were  formed  on  several  evenings,  nor  did 
the  parliament  interfere  to  prevent  them. 

King  Henry  had  hastened  from  the  wedding  to  visit  his 
army  at  Amiens.  A  messenger  bore  to  him  the  news  of 
the  night-processions,  saying  that  an  insurrection  had 
broken  out  in  Paris.  He  could  not  believe  it ;  the  noble 
character  of  many  of  the  persons  forbade  such  a  conclu- 
sion. He  did  not  dare  to  employ  violent  measures,  for  half 
the  nobility  were  in  favour  of  the  new  opinions.  His  ardour 
of  persecution  was  restrained.  He  did  nothing  more  than 
to  order  his  parliament  to  make  inquiries,  arrest  some  and 
threaten  all  with  death  who  should  persist  in  such  conduct.* 
But  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  as  chief  inquisitor,  looked 
about  for  a  noble  victim.     Wliere  was  the  lord  of  Andelot? 

After  the  taking  of  Calais  he  went  to  his  estates  in  Brit- 

*  "Several  persons  were  arrested  on  tliis  occasion.  So  many  edicts 
have  been  published,  accompanied  by  severe  threats,  that  the  affair 
has  dropped." — Calvin's  Letters,  div. 


A    BOLDKR    rnOTESTAXTISM.  101 

tany.  Henry  kept  track  of  him,  not  only  as  a  valiant 
officer,  but  as  a  suspected  heretic.  In  the  baggage  of  some 
six  hundred  gentlemen,  who  had  escaped  with  bare  life  at 
Saint  Quentin,  certain  forbidden  books  were  found,  and  the 
Spaniards  were  not  slow  in  rejiorting  to  the  French  king 
that  "the  pestilence"  was  rapidly  spreading  among  his 
nobles.  On  this  point  Herod  and  Pilate  were  friends. 
The  evidence  was  particularly  strong  against  Andclot. 
This  was  not  all.  He  had  engaged  the  services  of  Caspar 
Carmel,  who  had  married  the  niece  of  William  Farel,  and 
preached  to  the  church  in  Paris  until  his  life  was  in  peril. 
He  had  begun  the  work  of  Reform  in  a  province  moi-e  neg- 
lected than  any  other.  Carmel  preached  in  his  house, 
visited  the  towns  and  soon  saw  ten  Reformed  churches  in 
Brittany,  with  pastors  from  Geneva.  It  was  the  first  ex- 
am|)le  of  what  could  be  done  by  missionaries  under  the 
patronage  of  the  nobility.  Reports  went  to  the  king. 
Andelot  must  receive  attention. 

The  black  eye  of  the  Spaniard  was  upon  him.  Here 
begins  the  long  series  of  Spanish  intrigues  in  France  (1558) 
which  so  greatly  affected  Protestantism.  Philip  was  the 
grand  manager ;  the  Guises  were  the  tools.  He  wisely 
chose  his  agents.  One  was  his  cousin,  the  Duchess  Chris- 
terne  of  Lorraine,  who  had  sharply  spied  out  the  ground. 
The  otlier  was  Antony  Perrenot,  best  known  as  Cardinal 
Granvelle,  the  tyrant  of  the  Tsetlierlands.  "NVary,  crafty 
and  ambitious,  he  knew  how  to  handle  the  Guises,  whom 
he  met  at  Perronne.  "From  this  central  point,"  says 
Motley,  "  commenced  the  weaving  of  that  widespread 
scheme,  in  which  the  fate  of  millions  was  to  be  involved." 
After  a  first  course  of  cajoleries,  Granvelle  brought  on  the 
substantials,  and  said  to  the  Guises :  "  What  a  special 
providence  is  tlie  captivity  of  Montmorency  and  Coligny ! 
So  Philip  regards  it.  They  are  out  of  the  way,  and  you 
9  * 


102  ADMIRAL    COI.IGNV. 

have  in  your  lumds  the  destiny  of  France — yes,  of  all 
Europe.  .  .  .  The  war  between  Henry  and  Philip  must  be 
closed.  Then  the  two  nionarchs  can  unite  heart  and  hand 
for  the  extirpation  of  heresy.  It  must  be  rooted  out  of 
France  and  Flanders." 

The  vain  Guises  were  delighted  with  the  programme. 
The  duke  was  to  war  away,  while  the  cardinal  nurtured  the 
olive  branches.  The  understanding  was  to  be  a  profound 
secret.  The  crusade  must  have  no  Peter  the  Hermit  to 
preach  it.  Thus  was  laid  the  first  great  plot  against  the 
French  Protestants. 

But  there  was  one  representative  of  Montmorency  and 
the  Chatillons  still  at  large.  Granvelle  said:  "  You  must 
utterly  crush  those  rivals.  The  royal  graces  have  been 
quite  too  plentiful  toward  the  Colignys.  Strike  at  the 
source  ;  destroy  the  credit  of  Andelot  with  the  king." 

"Throw  terror  into  the  nobility,"  said  Christerne,  "by 
having  him  made  an  example;  him  the  first  of  the  nobles 
who  has  professed  the  heresy.  He  will  lead  the  gentlemen 
of  war  into  it." 

"  I  hear  that  he  dogmatizes  about  the  mass." 

"And  those  books  found  at  St.  Quentin — " 

"Ah!  more  than  that,"  said  Granvelle,  gossipping  out 
the  frightful  secret.  "  Only  the  other  day  his  letters  were 
intercepted  on  the  road  to  his  brother,  and  they  leave  not  a 
doubt  of  his  heresy.  I  tell  you,  I  will  not  make  overtures 
of  peace  with  the  consent  of  my  master  unless  this  matter 
is  taken  in  hand.  But  it  must  be  a  secret.  Your  zeal  for 
our  Catholic  religion  is  the  pledge  for  that." 

The  ruin  of  Andelot  was  thus  plotted.*  These  Spanish 
suggestions  were  borne  to  the  king.     "  I  am  glad,"  said  he, 

*  "  La  perte  de  D' Andelot  fut  rc^sohie."  Pcrau,  Vie  D'Andelot; 
D'Auvigny,  Vie  de  Cardinal  de  Lorraine;  a  fine  historical  essay  upon 
the  events  of  the  period. 


A    UOI.BER    PROTESTANTISM.  103 

"  tliiit  my  royal  brother  of  Spain  is  s^o-porfectly  aware  that 
the  errors  of  Calvin  are  spreading  among  tiie  nobles  of 
France." 

"  Andelot  is  pointed  out  as  having  blasphemed  publicly 
against  the  mass,"  said  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine. 

The  king  was  exceedingly  touched  at  the  mention  of  this 
name,  which  ho  had  once  so  ardently  loved.  "  Can  it  be," 
he  asked,  "  that  he  has  grown  so  bold  and  so  impious?" 

"Try  him.  You  know  how  frank  and  honest  he  is." 
The  wily  cardinal  hoped  to  bring  Andelot  into  the  net, 
W'here  the  king  would  have  his  own  ears  filled  with  the 
evidence,  and  then  the  doom  of  the  heretic  would  be  sealed. 

"Let  us  be  gentle,"  said  Henry.  "Give  him  a  chance 
to  creep  out  of  the  difficulty.  Let  him  evade  or  deny 
Granvelle's  charges,  and  then  we  can  proceed  with  the 
treaty."  Even  a  persecutor  may  have  a  heart  for  a  once 
familiar  friend. 

The  i)lan  was  arranged.  Andelot  was  invited  to  the 
court  by  his  brother  Odet  and  his  cousin  Francis  Mont, 
niorency.  They  told  him  all  that  the  king  had  said  upon 
the  subject  of  his  heresy.  He  was  too  acute  to  be  blinded, 
too  honest  to  conceal  his  views,  too  brave  to  shrink  from 
the  consequences.  "  If  you  simply  deny  that  you  are  a 
Lutheran  or  Calvinist,  the  king  will  be  content,"  was  their 
counsel. 

"I  shall  say  just  what  I  mean,"  he  replied.  "I  must 
respect  myself  and  honour  my  conscience."  His  brother 
and  his  cousin  trembled  for  him  because  they  were  in  sym- 
pathy with  his  opinions.  They  knew  that  he  had  openly 
set  at  naught  the  edicts  against  "  heretics,"  but  they  also 
knew  that  Henry  sought  to  let  him  escape  through  some 
narrow  evasion.  Their  advice  was :  "  You  are  to  dine  with 
the  king.  For  your  life's  sake  be  careful  what  you  say. 
You  will  not  be  asked  to  declaim  against  the  errors  of  the 


104  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

Church.  Only  admit  tliat  the  Catholic  Church  is  the  true 
and  ancient  one,  meaning  what  you  Avill  by  catholic — of 
Rome  say  nothing." 

Andclot  was  ushered  into  the  royal  palace,  where  the 
Cardinal  of  Lorraine  was  waiting  to  see  whether  king  or 
noble  knew  most  of  theology.  The  chords  of  the  old 
friendship  were  retuned  in  the  table-talk.  Henry  spoke 
of  the  soldier's  merits  and  the  honours  bestowed  upon  him, 
and  then  said  :  "  I  learn  that  you  have  given  your  mind  to 
these  new  doctrines  which  are  rending  in  twain  the  Church. 
I  could  not  believe  it  at  first — and — indeed — really — " 

"Sir,  you  need  not  hesitate,"  replied  Andelot;  "your  ex- 
ceeding bounty  toward  me  requires  every  service  that  I  can 
render  you.  I  am  as  ready  as  ever  to  devote  my  sword, 
fortune  and  life  to  the  royal  cause.  But  when  I  have  done 
my  duty  to  your  majesty,  do  not  take  it  amiss  if  I  spend 
the  rest  of  my  time  in  working  out  my  salvation." 

"  Your  loyalty  is  not  in  question  ;  it  is  your  doctrine." 

"  That,  sir,  which  I  have  had  preached  is  the  pure  word 
of  God.  It  was  approved  by  the  ancient  Church  and  by 
our  forefathers." 

"  You  were  at  the  Pre  aux  Clercs,  so  I  am  told  ?" 

"  I  was  not  there ;  but  had  I  been  I  should  not  think 
that  I  had  acted  against  God  or  your  majesty.  For  I 
learn  that  nothing  was  there  done  but  to  sing  David's 
Psalms,  and  pray  God  for  the  welfare  of  yourself  and  your 
kingdom." 

"  You  have  sent  some  Genevan  books  to  your  brother — 
forbidden  books." 

"  I  have,  sir — such  books  as  cheered  me  in  my  prison  at 
Milan.  I  thought  it  very  proper  to  send  them  to  comfort 
the  admiral  under  the  tediousness  of  his  captivity,  which 
he  suffers  for  your  majesty's  sake." 

"What  of  the  ma^s?" 


A    BOLDER    PROTESTANTISM.  105 

"  I  confess  that  I  have  not  lieard  mass  for  a  h)ng  time, 
but  I  did  not  absent  myself  from  churches  and  chapels  ex- 
cept for  good  reasons  which  you  would  approve  if  you 
should  consider  them  ;  for  one  was,  I  was  often  wholly  en- 
gaged in  your  service.     If  this  be  an  error — " 

The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  saw  that  the  king  was  quite 
bafHed,  and  he  took  up  the  matter,  saying,  "  My  good  sir, 
think  upon  what  you  have  said  ;  you  are  in  a  bad  case." 

"  My  lord  cardinal,"  replied  Audelot,  "  I  am  well  satis- 
fied with  my  doctrine,  and  you  know  better  than  you  talk. 
I  ajopeal  to  your  conscience  if  you  have  not  favoured  that 
same  holy  doctrine ;  but  the  honours  of  this  life  have  quite 
changed  your  mind,  and  you  are  now  a  persecutor  of  those 
who  hold  what  you  know  to  be  true."  This  thrust  was 
enough  to  make  Lorraine  cautious.  It  was  quite  certain 
that  he  had  pretended  to  favour  the  Lutheran  Confession 
of  Augsburg,  and  he  had  caused  some  to  think  that  only 
his  love  of  benefices  had  kept  him  within  the  Roman 
pale. 

"But  I  did  not  give  you  this  badge  of  knightliood  to 
use  it  thus,"  said  the  king,  pointing  to  Andrlot's  collar. 
"  You  then  promised  and  swore  to  go  to  mass  and  to  follow 
your  religion." 

"  I  did  not  then  know  what  it  was  to  be  a  Christian,  and 
I  would  not  have  accepted  it  on  that  condition  had  God 
touched  my  heart  as  he  has  since." 

"  Tell  me,  then,  what  you  think  of  the  sacrifice  of  the 
mass?" 

"  I  regard  it  as  a  gross  impiety — a  horrible  profanation." 

At  this  the  angry  king  started  up  from  the  table,  seizing 
a  plate,  as  if  to  hurl  it  at  the  man  on  whom  he  had  lavished 
such  jn-etended  affection.  He  held  it  poised  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  like  a  child  that  dare  not  give  full  vent  to  his 
wrath,  he  dashed  it  down  with  such  violence  that  one  of  thu 


106  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

fragments  wounded  his  son  Francis,  the  dauphin,  who  was 
silting  at  the  table. 

"  Begone !"  said  the  angry  king,  grasping  his  sword. 
And  the  brave  Andelot  went;  not  far,  however,  for  he  was 
arrested  near  the  palace.* 

The  same  day  on  which  Andelot  was  arrested  his  com- 
mission of  colonel-general  was  taken  from  him,  and  he  was 
sent  to  the  prison  of  the  Bishop  of  Meaux,  a  sort  of  eccle- 
siastical jail.  He  was  liable  at  any  hour  to  be  given  over 
into  the  hands  of  inquisitors  and  tortured  until  his  an- 
swers would  satisfy  his  judges.  Certain  zealots  urged  the 
king  to  burn  him  as  a  heretic.  On  coming  to  more  sober 
thoughts,  Henry  saw  the  folly  of  such  extreme  measures, 
and  wrote  to  the  veteran  Montmorency  an  account  of  the 
provocation  which  he  had  received  from  his  kin.^man,  en- 
treating him  to  be  at  ease,  for  that  all  was  pardoned. 

Andelot  soon  learned  the  nature  of  tlie  pardon.  It  was 
simply  a  change  of  jjrisons.  He  was  removed  from  the 
grasp  of  Lorraine's  inquisitors  and  escorted  by  ten  archers 
to  the  more  comfortable  castle  of  Melun.  Soon  after 
reaching  the  castle,  his  wife  and  his  brother  Odet  en- 
treated him  to  confess  his  fault  and  apologize  to  the  king. 
His  wife's  health  required  him  to  retire  with  her  to  his 
estates.  But  he  was  unyielding.  Others  plied  him  with 
their  Jesuitry,  and  a  doctor  of  Paris  was  promised  him. 

"  I  have  news,"  he  wrote  to  the  church  of  Paris.  "  It  is, 
that  to-morrow  will  arrive  the  doctor  they  wish  to  send  me. 
I  pray  that  God  will  put  into  my  mouth  wherewith  to 
answer  always  for  his  glory.  .  .  .  Christ  will  be  magnified 
in  my  body,  either  by  life  or  death ;  for  me  to  live  is  Christ, 
and  to  die  is  gain,  by  means  of  whose  grace  I  hope  to  make 
known  to  those  who  shall  ask  an  account  of  my  faith  that 
I  fear  God  and    honour  my  king,  as  I  have  been  com- 

*  The  above  details  in  Perau,  Laval  and  Piiaux. 


A    BOLDER    PROTEbTAXTISM.  I(l7 

nuinded.  ...  As  to  the  things  of  the  soul  and  the  peace 
of  my  conscience,  I  shall  give  an  account  of  theai,  as  well 
as  I  can,  to  Ilini  who  alone  can  dispose  of  them."  (1st 
July,  1558.) 

To  King  Henry  he  wrote :  "  If  I  have  done  anything 
Avhich  displeases  you,  Sire,  I  entreat  you,  with  all  humble- 
ness, to  pardon  me,  and  to  believe  that,  excepting  the  case 
of  the  obedience  which  I  owe  to  God  and  to  my  conscience, 
you  shall  never  command  me  to  do  anything  wherein  I  shall 
not  promptly  and  faithfully  expose  my  wealth,  my  boily 
and  my  life.  And  what  I  ask  of  you,  Sire,  is  not,  thank 
God !  from  fear  of  death,  and  still  less  from  a  desire  of 
recovering  my  liberty ;  for  I  hold  nothing  so  dear  that  I 
would  not  willingly  abandon  it  for  the  salvation  of  my  soul 
and  the  glory  of  my  God ;  but,  nevertheless,  the  perplexity 
in  which  I  am,  in  wishing  to  satisfy  you  and  perform  the 
service  which  I  owe  you,  and  not  be  able  to  do  it  with  a 
safe  conscience,  oppresses  my  heart,  so  that  to  ease  my  mind 
I  have  been  forced  to  address  you  this  humble  petition." 
(July,  1558.)* 

This  treatment  of  such  a  nobleman  made  a  great  noise. 
Pope  Paul  IV.  was  kept  fully  informed  of  the  progress  of 
the  affair  from  the  beginning.  He  was  delighted ;  he  ex- 
tolled the  king's  piety  and  self-sacrifice!  and  kindling  with 
his  theme,  as  if  he  already  snuffed  the  fumes  of  an  approach- 
ing holocaust,  he  exclaimed,  "  What  is  fitting  on  such  an 
occasion  but  to  leap  on  the  neck  of  the  criminal  and  to 
burn  him  alive  on  the  spot!" 

"It  is  out  of  the  question,"  replied  the  French  ambassa- 
dor, "  to  treat  a  Chatillon  in  such  a  way,  especially  tlie 
nephew  of  the  constable  and  the  brother  of  the  admiral." 

"  A  heretic  never  repents,"  answered  the  pope ;  "  it  is  an 
evil  for  which  there  is  no  remedy  but  the  fire."t     This  was 

*  Bonnet's  Isotes  to  Calvin's  Letters.  f  Perau,  Smcdiey. 


108  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

a  high  coniplimcut  to  the  firmness  of  the  Protestants  in  the 
truth  of  God. 

In  other  distant  quarters  there  was  a  deep  sympathy  for 
Andelot.  At  Geneva,  Calvin  wrote,  "The  details  we  have 
learned,  not  by  hearsay,  but  from  his  own  letters.  What- 
ever be  the  result,  he  has  so  well  learned  the  lesson  of  re- 
nouncing ever3'thing  which  might  turn  him  aside  from  the 
right  path  that  all  his  relations  and  even  his  wife  have 
given  over  tormenting  him.  .  .  .  Now,  that  the  threats 
have  been  redoubled,  and  he  has  been  informed  that  it  has 
been  decided  to  shut  him  up  all  the  rest  of  his  life,  you  will 
see,  by  his  letters,  what  a  befitting  frame  of  mind  God  has 
bestowed  upon  him."  Calvin  wrote  to  him  giving  advice 
and  encouragement.*  He  was  also  visited  by  the  ministers 
of  Paris,  who  had  baptized  his  little  daughter,  born  a  few 
days  after  he  had  been  thrust  into  the  castle. 

At  length  his  relatives  brought  all  their  pleas  to  bear 
upon  his  mind,  and  the  king's  confessor,  a  doctor  of  the 
tSorbonne,  came  to  wind  himself  into  the  confidence  of  the 
prisoner  and  sap  that  firmness  which  had  repelled  every 
open  attack.  He^  was  so  wrought  upon  that  he  finally 
yielded  in  a  moment  of  weakness  and  consented  to  write  a 
letter  of  submission  to  the  king.  The  letter  does  not  betray 
a  crouching  spirit,  nor  anything  like  a  recantation,  although 
the  high  tone  of  courage  is  reduced,  as  the  reader  may  see: 
"Sire,  I  have  received  singular  pleasure  from  the  company 
of  Dr.  Rusle,  whom  I  have  detained  two  days,  both  to  be 
instructed  and  to  give  him  some  slight  explanation  of  my 
faith  and  religion,  which  I  should  be  sorry  were  such  as 
some  have  perhaps  been  inclined  to  believe.  I  very  hum- 
bly beg  your  majesty  to  favour  me  by  giving  him  a  patient 
hearing,  and  I  trust  in  God  that,  after  his  report,  you  will 
not  remain  dissatisfied  with  me,  for  some  part  of  it  will 
*  Calvin's  Letter?,  ccccxcvii.,  cliii.,  div. 


A    BOLDER    PROTESTANTISM.  109 

give  you  sati.sfaftion.  I  .•^hall  inforin  your  majesty  that  I 
will  obey  you,  as  God  commands  me  and  the  duty  of  your 
very  humble  and  obliged  servant  requires."  (7th  July, 
1558.) 

This  was  quite  ambiguous ;  it  could  be  easily  interpreted 
to  please  the  king,  and  yet  Andelot  could  claim  that  he 
had  (qualified  all  his  concessions.  It  was  not,  however, 
worthy  of  him,  who  had  all  along  been  so  free  from  double- 
meaning  phrases.     The  king  was  not  quite  satisfied. 

lint  the  following  winter  months  brought  about  the  re- 
lease of  Montmorency,  who  interceded  boldly  for  his  nephew. 
Wife,  uncle  and  the  Jesuits  were  too  much  both  for  king 
and  captive.  At  last  Henry  gave  the  condition  of  release, 
by  saying  : 

"  Let  him  hear  mass  in  his  cell."  Andelot  consented  to 
simply  hear  mass,  but  he  took  no  part  in  the  service.  The 
doors  were  opened  ;  he  was  set  free,  but  he  never  ceased  to 
reproach  himself  for  what  he  had  thus  permitted.  Beza 
says,  "  He  always  condemned  the  act,  even  till  death,  and 
amended  it  by  all  the  means  which  it  is  possible  to  desire." 

The  tidings  of  Andelot's  error  was  soon  known  through- 
out the  church  of  Paris.  "  Alas  !"  wrote  one  of  the  pas- 
tors to  Calvin,  "shall  he  in  whom  we  triumphed  fall  off', 
that  God  may  humble  us  in  every  manner?"  Calvin  wrote 
him  a  letter,  which  might  well  lead  him  to  repentance. 
The  young  minister,  Francis  Morel,  sent  better  news  to 
Geneva  at  the  close  of  the  year :  "  Admonished  by  our 
brother  Gaspard  (Carrael),  he  did  not  long  defend  his  course, 
but  sorrowing  ingenuously  confessed  it,  and  said  that  he 
would  henceforth  strive  openly  to  woi'ship  God." 

Vol.  I.— 10 


CHAPTER    V. 

COURAGE  IN  HIGH  PLACES. 
(1S58,  1559,) 

THE  Admiral  Coligny  had  been  near  the  brink  of  the 
grave  Avhile  sick  in  a  Flemish  castle.  Scarcely  had  he 
recovered  when  he  asked  for  a  Bible,  and  he  gave  himself 
■wholly  up  to  its  study  for  many  weeks.  The  letters  of  his 
brother  had  not  all  been  intercepted  by  the  agents  of  Gran- 
velle.  The  terrible  affair  of  St  Jacques,  the  imprisonment 
of  the  noble  ladies  of  the  court,  the  martyrdoms  and  the 
inquisition  of  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  Avere  reported  to 
him.  But  all  this  did  not  blunt  his  taste  for  the  new  doc- 
trines.* 

Andelot  sent  him  religious  books  and  opened  the  way  for 
a  correspondence  with  Calvin.  *'  I  shall  not  employ  any 
long  exhortations,"  wrote  the  Genevan  Reformer,  "  to  con- 
firm you  in  patience,  because  I  am  of  ojoinion,  nay,  I  have 
heard,  that  our  heavenly  Father  has  so  fortified  you  by 
the  power  of  his  Spirit  that  I  should  rather  praise  him  for 
his  kindness  than  urge  you  to  greater  efforts.  And,  in  fact, 
here  it  is  that  true  greatness  of  mind  should  make  itself 
manifest;  viz.,  in  overcoming  all  our  passions  in  order  not 
only  to  gain  the  victory  over  them,  but  to  offer  a  true  sacri- 
fice of  obedience  to  God.  .  .  ,  Let  me  call  your  attention 
to  one  thing  more,  which  is,  that  in  sending  this  affliction 
upon  you,  God  has  intended  to  draw  you  apart  and  whisper 
in  your  ear,  so  that  you  would  listen  to  him  more  atteu- 

*  Pcniu,  Vie  de  Coligny. 
110 


COURAGE    IX    HIGH    PLACES.  Ill 

lively.  Give  good  heed  to  liiiii  and  make  progress  in  his 
school."  * 

Tlie  same  day  Calvin  wrote  a  consoling  letter  to  Madame 
de  Coligny,  of  ^vhom  a  historian  of  those  times  rehites : 
"  This  lady  had  always  been  much  attaclied  to  religion,  and 
possessed  of  the  highest  constancy  in  suj)porting  her  own 
afflictions  and  those  of  her  husband.  Among  other  virtues 
and  gifts  of  mind  wliich  rendered  her  commendable,  the 
care  which  she  took  of  the  i)oor  and  the  sick  and  her  alms 
were  singularly  praiseworthy." 

The  aged  Montmorency,  still  a  prisoner  in  Flanders,  was 
engaged  in  drawing  up  articles  of  peace.  On  the  third  of 
April,  1559,  the  treaty  of  peace  was  effected  at  Cateau, 
near  Cambray,  and  therefore  called  the  peace  of  Cateau- 
Cambresis.  Philip  and  Henry  were  to  restore  to  one  an- 
other all  that  each  had  gained  during  eight  years  of  war. 
This  paved  the  way  for  the  release  of  Admiral  Coligny,  his 
uncle  and  his  brother ;  but  the  first  had  still  to  pay  fifty 
thousand  crowns  for  his  liberty.  Calvin  feared  lest  he 
should  be  asked  to  declare  himself  a  Romanist  as  a  condi- 
tion of  his  release,  and  he  therefore  wrote  to  Madame 
Coligny  :  "  I  entreat  you  to  be  prepared  to  hold  out  against 
the  alarms  that  may  be  got  up  against  you.  For,  however 
excellent  may  be  his  inclination  to  dedicate  himself  to  God, 
I  fear  whether  he  will  be  able  to  remain  unshaken  by  the 
murmurs  and  threats  of  his  uncle  [oNIontmorency,  a  zealous 
Catholic],  or  the  solicitation  of  his  brother  [Odet].  Reflect 
also  that  it  is  your  duty  to  aid  him  in  taking  courage  by 
your  example." 

Such  fears  were  needless.     Coligny  paid  his  ransom  and 

retired  to  his  estates  at  Chatillon.     Weary  of  the  factions 

at  court,  unwilling  to  serve  a  king  whom  the  Guises  ruled, 

and  seriously  thinking  of  abandoning  the  papal  religion, 

*  Letters  of  Sept.  4,  1558. 


112  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY, 

he  offered  to  resign  certain  important  offices.  He  resigned 
the  government  of  Paris  and  the  Isle  of  France  in  favour 
of  his  cousin  Francis  Montmorency,  and  earnestly  besought 
the  king  to  namea  successor  for  his  government  of  Picardy. 
"  I  wonder  at  your  resolution,"  -svas  Henry's  reply.  Others 
wondered,  and  began  to  suspect  that  "  he  had  changed  his 
religion,  for  he  made  it  very  evident  that  his  mind  was 
altogether  drawn  off  from  all  coveting  of  honour  and  power" 
— an  evidence  of  religious  devotion  that  might  not  be  amiss 
in  the  present  century. 

By  anticipating  a  little,  we  follow  Coligny  to  his  home. 
Having  leisure  in  his  castle,  he  gave  much  of  his  time  to 
biblical  studies.  His  noble-hearted  wife,  Charlotte  Laval, 
"  was  wonderfully  given  to  the  Reformed  religion,"  and  she 
assisted  him  with  all  earnestness  and  sympathy.  Andelot 
sometimes  came  to  warn  of  danger,  which  he  had  known, 
and  to  derive  new  strength  for  coming  conflicts.  Odet  laid 
his  red  cap  aside  and  sought  to  prevent  his  brother  from 
incurring  the  royal  wrath  as  Andelot  had  done.  But  he  re- 
ceived a  new  knowledge,  whose  results  will  be  seen  at  a 
later  day.  Henceforth  the  names  of  these  three  men  are 
interwoven  with  the  French  Reformation  and  with  the 
history  of  France.  Sismondi  declares  that  "  the  court  of 
France  had  never  yet  presented  a  finer  combination  of 
bravery,  talents  and  virtues"  than  was  exhibited  in  the 
brothers  of  the  noble  house  of  Chatillon.  "  Odet  wore  the 
cardinal's  purple,  more  worthily,  perhaps,  than  it  was  ever 
worn  in  that  or  any  generation."  The  Abbe  Perau  de- 
clares, with  other  writers,  that  the  Coligny  brothers  were 
the  first  noblemen  of  the  court  who  embraced  Calvinism. 
"The  capacity  of  the  three  brothers,  their  high  degree  of 
intelligence,  their  alliances,  their  offices  and  the  extent  of 
their  correspondence  soon  rendered  formidable  to  the  court 


COURAGE   IN   HIGH   PLACES.  113 

the  party  wliicli  thoy  organizcl  in  the  ?tate."*  But  it  will 
be  interesting  to  trace  the  steps  by  which  the  admiral  was 
led  to  make  the  public  avowal  of  his  new  faith.  It  was  his 
heroic  wife  who  conquered  his  timidity. 

"  IIow  wonderful !"  said  Madame  Ciiarlotte  to  her  hus- 
band, on  an  evening  when  they  were  gazing  from  the  castle 
tower  and  admiring  the  glory  of  God  revealed  in  the  starry 
heavens — "  how  wonderful  that  you  and  Monsieur  Andelot 
sliould  have  been  blest  in  your  cajjtivity  with  a  knowledge 
of  the  truth!  And  now  why  do  you  not  publicly  avow 
your  faith  as  he  has  done,  and  have  a  chaplain  with  us, 
j)reacliing  in  the  castle  and  in  the  towns  about  us?" 

"  Perhaps  I  should  quail  as  he  has  done,  if  I  were  thrown 
into  prison  and  beset  with  temptations  and  the  tears  of  his 
wife.     I  might  not  hold  out  through  all  the  siege." 

j\[adame  Charlotte  would  not  prove  the  tempter  in  such 
a  case.  "Think,"  she  said,  "your  wife  would  never  entreat 
you  with  tears  to  submit  at  the  expense  of  your  faith  and 
your  honour." 

"  Do  you  believe  it?  Would  you  encourage  me  to  remain 
firm,  whatever  might  happen?" 

"  Indeed  I  would  ;  for  though  the  trial  of  seeing  you  in 
prison  for  your  faith  would  crush  me,  yet  I  would  be 
crushed  to  nothing  a  thousand  times  rather  than  have  you 
deny  Christ." 

"  This  has  been  the  last  cable  which  has  held  me  to  the 
Roman  Church.  I  have  feared  the  trials  that  I  might 
bring  upon  your  path,  while  I  have  not  been  regardless  of 
those  which  I  might  be  called  to  endure.  It  is  wise  to 
count  the  cost  of  being  a  true  Christian — " 

"It  is  wiser  to  count  the  cost  of  not  being  a  true  Chris- 
tian.    In  the  one  case  the  cost  is  tcm})oral,  in  the  other  it 

*  An(|iictil,  L'Esprit  tie  la   Ligiic.     In  tho  details  given  below  I 
follow  the  Vita  Colinii,  Brantoiue,  Courtiltz  and  Perau. 
10  » 


114  ADMIRAL   COLTGNY. 

is  eternal ;  in  tlic  one  the  body  pays  it,  but  in  the  other  the 
soul  pays  it  for  ever." 

"  You  are  right,"  replied  the  admiral,  whose  old  habit  of 
slow  speaking  was  not  broken  by  his  wife's  lively  and  rapid 
speech ;  "  but  allow  me  a  little  time  to  explain.  I  have 
wondered  at  the  courage  of  those  who  could  avow  them- 
selves Protestants  in  the  face  of  tortures  and  death  by  fire. 
To  face  the  cannon's  mouth  is  nothing  to  that !  For  what 
are  the  chances  of  escape?  I  know  of  no  Protestants  who 
have  not  been  severely  punished  by  the  laws  of  France. 
Whoever  makes  a  public  profession  of  his  faith  is  likely  to 
be  seized,  burned  and  his  property  confiscated  to  the  king. 
If  he  undertake  secretly  to  cherish  the  living  word  of  God 
he  is  suspected ;  whispers  reach  the  ear  of  parliament,  and 
he  is  ti'eated  with  extreme  rigour.  But  if  I  were  alone  in 
the  world,  all  this  would  not  alarm  me.  I  have  thought  of 
you  and  our  children.  Yet,  if  you  are  so  prepared  with 
faith  and  courage  that  you  can  undergo  what  is  common  to 
others,  you  shall  see  that  I  will  not  be  wanting  in  my  duty." 

Even  her  tears  did  not  prevent  ]Madarae  Coligny  from 
making  a  prompt  reply  :  "  The  condition  of  true  Christians 
is  not  different  from  what  it  always  has  been  and  may 
always  be.  Our  Lord  foresaw  it  when  he  told  us  to  'fear 
not  them  that  kill  the  body,  and  after  that  have  no  more 
that  they  can  do.'  You  cannot  refuse  to  be,  at  least,  a 
secret  follower  of  Christ ;  but  you  cannot  safely  be  a  hidden 
disciple,  for  if  yon  are  ashamed  of  him  before  men,  he  will 
deny  you  before  his  heavenly  Father  and  the  holy  angels. 
Nor  will  you  be  safe  even  from  violent  men  ;  they  will  sus- 
pect you,  and  drag  you  from  your  castle  and  put  you  to  the 
rack-,  and,  if  possible,  treat  you  more  cruelly  than  if  you 
were  known  to  all  the  world  as  not  only  a  disciple,  but  a 
leader  among  the  Protestants." 

"  Enough,  madame.     It  was  only  for  your  sake  that  I 


COURAGE    IN    IIKJH    PLACES.  115 

had  thought  of  these  terrors;  as  for  my.«elf,  I  have  dwelt 
upon  the  joys  of  religion.  What  delight  to  have  a  family 
altar,  a  chaplain  in  our  castle,  a  church  growing  up  in  our 
town,  a  gospel  preached  to  the  poor,  and  an  open  fellowship 
with  ^Iiidaiuo  Renee  just  up  at  Moutargis,"^  or  ha2)py  visits 
between  us  and  the  house  of  Navarre." 

"And  the  joys  beyond  all  these!  the  glories  of  the  eter- 
nal heavens  !  "  exclaimed  Madame  Charlotte,  with  her  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  stars  of  midnight.  There  was  silence ;  the 
clock  struck,  and  the  tower  was  left  to  its  loneliness. 

The  visitors  who  next  came  to  the  castle  to  congratulate 
the  hero  of  Saint  Quentin  upon  his  release  from  captivity 
were  not  a  little  surprised  to  hear  him  openly  profess  the 
Reformed  creed.  He  told  them  of  a  deliverance  from  an- 
other bondage  and  of  a  new  liberty.  A  thorough  reform 
had  taken  place  in  his  house.  He  gave  the  Scriptures  to 
his  servants,  and  exhorted  them  to  follow  his  example.  He 
forbade  all  profane  swearing  among  them,  and  gave  them 
a  higher  idea  of  life.  He  engaged  pious  teachers  for  his 
children,  and  establislied  schools  among  the  poor.  He 
began  to  attend  the  meetings  held  by  the  Protestants,  but 
did  not  yet  j)artake  of  the  Lord's  Sa]»per,  for  he  still  had 

*  To  the  Duchess  of  Ferr.ira,  Calvin  had  written  :  "  I  liear  tliat  vou 
are  not  without  tliorns  in  your  own  liou.~e.  But  still  you  must  over- 
come that  evil  with  the  rest."  Her  liusband  died  October  3d,  1559, 
leaving  certain  Italian  estates  to  her,  "so  long  as  she  should  live  as  a 
good  Catholic."  But  she  might  have  a  lioine  at  Montargis,  near  Cha- 
tillon,  and  there  live  a.s  a  good  Protestant,  which  she  preferred  to  do. 
No  golden  chain  could  bind  her  to  an  Italy  of  persecution.  Her  son 
succeeded  to  the  duchy,  and  compelled  her  to  choose  between  a  change 
of  religion  or  a  departure  from  Ferrara.  She  left  for  France,  a  fact 
greatly  lamented  by  the  people,  who  for  thirty  years  liad  k>ved  her  for 
her  mental  vivacity,  her  graceful  manners,  her  >me(pi;illed  liberality 
and  her  calm  Christian  character. — ^[urutori ;  Mononats  of  Rente  of 
France. 


116  ADMIRAI>    COI.IGXY. 

some  doubts  \vhotlicr  tlie  broad  and  tlie  wine  wore  not,  in 
some  sense,  cliangod  into  the  bod}^  and  blood  of  Christ.  It 
was  a  subject  which  lie  often  discussed  with  learned  minis- 
ters, but  his  questions  had  not  yet  been  fully  answered  to 
his  satisfaction. 

One  day,  being  at  Yatteville,  listening  to  the  "Word  of 
God,  the  truth  began  to  break  clearly  upon  his  mind. 
"When  the  Lord's  Supper  was  about  to  be  celebrated,  he 
rose  and  said,  "  I  beseech  the  congregation  not  to  take 
oifence  at  my  weakness,  but  to  believe  me  sincere  and  pray 
for  me  when  I  ask  the  minister  to  explain  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per a  little  more  fully."     All  were  astonished. 

"The  words  of  Augustine  will  relieve  the  mind  of  our 
friend,"  said  the  preacher.  "  They  are  to  this  effect :  '  To 
eat  that  bread  which  does  not  perish,  but  which  gives  life, 
is  to  believe  in  Christ.  To  believe  is  to  eat,'  and  this  faith 
qualifies  one  to  take  this  bread  and  wine.  They  remain 
unchanged,  but  the  believer  receives  Christ,  when  he  prop- 
erly receives  them." 

"Permit  me,  brethren,  to  return  thanks  to  God  for  this 
instruction,"  said  the  admiral,  "and  to  the  pastor,  who  has 
so  patiently  given  it.  I  now  see  that  true  preparation  for 
the  supper  is  not  in  a  change  in  the  elements  used,  but  in 
the  person  using  them  ;  he  must  have  faith  in  Christ.  God 
sparing  me,  I  shall  seek  to  receive  the  communion  on  the 
first  day,  hereafter  when  it  is  administered  in  my  parish." 

""Why  not  now?"  inquired  the  pastor. 

"  I  have  not  made  so  public  a  profession  of  my  faith  as 
I  ought." 

"  You  are  making  it  now.  Do  you  now  profess  to  be- 
lieve in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  only  Saviour  and  In- 
tercessor for  fallen  man?  Do  you  agree  with  us  in  the 
doctrines  Avhich  the  Scriptures  teach,  so  far  as  you  know 
them?" 


COURAGE    IN    IIKill    I'LACES.  117 

"  Most  sincerely  I  do,"  rei)li('(l  the  admiral,  moved  with 
deep  feeling,  to  which  the  audience  responded  with  sighs 
and  tears. 

"Then  in  the  name  of  my  Lord,  and  of  my  brethren,  I 
invite  you  to  this  table,  unless  the  elders  think  that  our 
usual  rules  should  be  strictly  observed." 

"  r>y  no  means  let  us  debar  the  Lord's  chosen  disciple, 
for  it  is  the  Lord's  table,"  said  a  venerable  elder,  who 
spoke  the  mind  of  his  brethren.  "  AVhere  the  S])irit  of  the 
Lord  is,  there  is  liberty." 

The  admiral  and  Charlotte  Coligny  were  among  the 
happiest  of  the  joyful  band  who  then  remembered  the  Lord 
Jesus  in  this  legacy  of  his  dying  love.  The  scene  was 
almost  heavenly  ;  the  effect  of  it  was  powerful  and  extended. 
The  villagers  would  never  forget  it.  The  report  of  it  spread 
throughout  France.  The  old  "  Memoires,"  which  have  sup- 
plied the  materials  for  our  description,  say,  "it  is  impossible 
to  describe  the  joy  and  consolation  which  all  the  churches 
thence  received." 

From  the  same  "Memoires"  we  learn  something  of  "the 
daily  order  of  his  house,"  which  will  serve  as  a  specimen 
of  what  became  usual  in  the  families  of  the  nobility  in  those 
times.  Indeed  among  the  earnest  Christians  of  that  day 
there  was  a  family  worship,  more  lengthy,  formal  and 
solemn  than  is  now  often  to  be  found.  Perhaps  in  our 
haste  and  brevity  we  are  apt  to  make  ours  a  mere  formal- 
ity. Theirs  was  a  service,  as  the  habits  of  Coligny  will 
show.  "  As  soon  as  he  left  his  bed,  which  in  general  was 
very  early  in  the  morning,  and  had  wrapt  his  gown  around 
bim,  he  knelt  down  with  his  household  and  nuide  a  prayer 
after  the  form  of  the  French  Huguenot  churches ;  after 
•which,  while  he  was  waiting  for  the  jireachment,  which 
took  place  every  other  day  with  psalm-singing,  he  gave 
audience  to  the  deputies  of  the  churches  that  were  sent  to 


118  ADMIRAL    COIJGNY. 

him,  or  he  employed  liimself  in  public  matters.  Sometimes 
he  did  business  after  the  sermon  until  the  dinner-hour. 

"  When  dinner  was  ready,  his  household  servants,  except 
the  cooks  and  waiters,  stood  in  the  great  hall.  Then,  stand- 
ing at  the  table,  with  his  wife  at  his  side,  he  observed  wor- 
ship. If  there  had  been  no  sermon  that  morning,  a  psalm 
was  sung;  then  a  benediction  was  pronounced.  Of  this  an 
infinity,  not  only  of  Frenchmen,  but  of  German  captains 
and  colonels,  can  bear  witness  that  he  kept  this  observance, 
without  omitting  it  a  single  day,  not  only  in  his  own  house, 
but  also  when  with  the  army.  The  cloth  having  been  re- 
moved after  dinner,  he  rose  with  his  family  and  attendants, 
and  either  returned  thanks  himself  or  had  his  chaplain  do  so. 
The  same  thing  was  observed  at  supper.  As  some  of  his 
household  could  not  well  be  present  at  the  evening  prayer, 
he  ordered  them  all  to  appear  in  the  great  hall  after  supper ; 
there  they  engaged  in  psalms  and  prayers.  At  such  times 
he  often  summoned  all  his  tenants,  told  them  that  he 
would  have  to  render  to  God  an  account  of  his  own  life, 
of  his  care  over  them  and  of  their  conduct;  and  reconciled 
them  together  if  there  had  happened  to  be  any  quarrels 
among  them. 

"And  it  would  not  be  easy  to  say  how  many  of  the 
French  nobility  began  to  establish  in  their  families  these 
devout  rules  of  the  admiral,  who  often  exhorted  them  to 
the  true  practice  of  piety,  saying  that  it  was  not  enough 
that  the  father  of  a  family  lived  holily  and  religiously,  if 
he  did  not  by  his  example  induce  others  to  follow  the  same 
rule.  ...  Of  wine  he  drank  very  little ;  he  ate  sparingly 
and  slept,  at  most,  but  seven  hours."  Such  were  some  of 
the  customs  of  "  the  greatest  layman  of  the  French  Refor- 
mation." And  yet  this  is  the  man  whom  prejudice  has 
often  represented  as  ambitious  of  power,  restless  in  peace, 
anxious  for  war,  and  fomenting  discord  and  rebellion.   The 


COUUAG1-:  IX  HIGH  I'Laces.  119 

slanderous  sentence,  first  uttered  by  an  enemy,  has  been 
handed  down  from  one  to  another,  that  his  greatest  exploits 
were  against  his  God,  his  king  and  his  country.  The  facta 
vill  prove  that  he  was  godly,  loyal  and  patriotic.  His  ene- 
mies prove  it ;  for  his  kind  of  piety  was  a  crime  in  their 
eyes,  and  Protestantism  an  intolerable  rebellion  against 
Home.     But  we  need  not  plead  ;  our  task  is  to  narrate. 

While  Coligny  was  furnishing  to  the  nobility  a  model  of 
family  government,  a  few  Protestant  pastors  were  setting 
before  the  world  the  model  of  an  ecclesiastical  court.  It 
was  a  bold  step  for  even  bold  men,  during  those  stormy 
days.  It  was  held  shortly  after  the  release  of  Coligny  and 
Andelot,  and  they  may  have  taken  some  interest  in  it,  al- 
though it  was  known  only  to  the  faithful.  In  the  convening 
of  this  first  national  synod  of  France,  much  was  due  to  the 
energy  of  a  young  nobleman  who  had  given  all  to  the 
Reform. 

The  lord  of  La  Roche  died  in  his  chateau  near  ]Ma9on, 
leaving  a  fortune  to  his  son  Antony,  a  child  of  four  years. 
Another  son  became  a  captain  in  the  army  under  Coligny. 
The  family  was  noble  and  ancient.  The  young  son  was 
taken  to  Paris  and  placed  in  charge  of  a  teacher,  who  let 
fall  into  his  heart  the  seeds  of  a  holy  truth.  These  grew 
rapidly  when  the  lad  went  to  study  law  at  Toulouse,  into 
wliich  Calvin  and  his  friends  had  borne  the  Gospel.  He 
talked  with  the  Protestant  students ;  his  mind  was  not  at 
rest ;  he  must  see  and  hear  the  Reformers  at  Geneva. 
Thither  he  went,  and  was  confirmed  in  the  faith.  Do  Thou 
describes  him  as  a  youtli  "in  whom  nobility  of  birth,  come- 
liness of  face,  learning,  elot^uence  and  a  s-iiigular  modesty 
vied  with  each  other." 

On  his  return  to  Paris  he  cast  in  his  lot  with  the  Protest- 
ant church,  then  under  the  care  of  Francis  Morel,  the  lord 
of  Colonges,  by  whom  he  was  persuaded  to  give  up  the  law 


120  ADMIFvAL,   COLIGNY. 

and  study  theology.  It  is  not  a  little  singular  that  this 
church  had  so  many  pastors  who  were  young  noblemen  ; 
perhaps  the  hope  was  to  ensure  it  more  favour  with  the 
court.  It  was  soon  to  have  another.  This  flock  called 
Antony  Chandieu  to  the  ministry,  at  the  age  of  twenty 
years.  He  was  probably  in  the  St.  Jacques  affair ;  and 
this  may  have  prompted  him  to  take  up  his  pen  in  defence 
of  the  nightly  assemblies  of  the  Protestants  for  the  cele- 
bration of  the  Lord's  Supper.  Had  not  the  Lord  himself 
instituted  it  by  night,  surrounded  by  enemies?  The  tract 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  priests.  Chandieu  w'as  thrown 
into  prison  for  heresy.  When  the  King  and  Queen  of 
Navarre  came  to  court  they  set  him  free,  that  he  too  might 
sing  the  Psalms  of  David  on  the  commons,  if  he  chose. 
He  visited  Geneva.  During  the  troubles  in  Paris,  Calvin 
wrote  to  the  church  there:  "  We  have  chosen  from  among 
our  colleagues  the  fittest  for  this  mission.  Meanwhile  avail 
yourselves  of  what  God  grants  you;  besides,  our  excellent 
brother  M.  de  la  Roche  [Chandieu]  has  promised  to  return 
soon  and  labour  among  you  as  valiantly  as  ever."* 

At  this  point  a  lively  pen  has  portrayed  him  as  "  the 
ardent  minister,  made  spare  by  his  vigils,  with  brown  hair, 
eyes  aflame,  short  chin,  sallow  face,  eloquent  lips,  a  military 
bearing,  and  full  of  that  Christian  faith  which  produced 
pastors  courageous  and  powerful  among  the  people.  The 
aide-de-camp  of  Calvin  and  Beza,  he  fitly  represented  the 
Reformation."  Another  calls  him,  "one  of  the  most  illus- 
trious ministers  and  devout  actors  of  the  terrible  drama 
called  the  Reform.  Braving  the  cruel  edicts,  he  came  to 
Paris."  t 

Chandieu  had  the  talent  for  organizing  more  perfectly 

*  Calvin's  Letters,  cccclxxxvi. 

t  Tliiiiini  Ilistoria,  lil>.  xxix. ;  Lacratelle,  Balzac,  and  the  Biograpbie 
Universelle. 


COUUAGE   IN    HIGH    PLACES.  121 

the  elements  of  the  Protestant  Church  in  France.  He 
went  into  Poitiers,  where  the  fruits  of  Calvin's  early- 
labours  were  abundant,  and  had  a  conference  with  the 
faithful.  The  Lord's  Supper  was  celebrated.  At  this 
reunion  of  pastors  and  people,  the  question  arose,  How  they 
might  better  arrange  their  parishes  and  promote  a  more 
effective  discipline?  Chandieu  threw  out  certain  ideas  of 
organization  which  struck  his  brethren  with  force.  "  Why 
not,"  they  asked — "why  not  have  all  the  churches  of  France 
united  in  one  confession  of  faith  and  one  form  of  govern- 
ment?" 

The  idea  was  to  become  a  fact.  Chandieu  was  empow- 
ered to  bring  about  a  convention  of  ministers  and  elders  at 
Paris.  In  four  months  the  quiet  word  went  abroad  to  all 
the  churches.  The  faithful  at  the  capital  prepared  to  en- 
tertain very  secretly  a  goodly  number  of  those  who  might 
find  a  scaffold  if  they  dared  to  show  their  faces  in  the 
streets.  The  day  came — it  was  May  25,  1559 — but  what 
a  disappointment!  Only  the  deputies  of  ten  or  twelve 
churches  appeared  ;  the  rest  found  the  difficulties  so  great 
that  they  could  not  safely  come.  These  ten  came  in  the 
very  face  of  death.* 

In  the  chambers  of  Parliament  noisy  debates  were  raised 
by  fiery  persecutors.  In  some  retired  room  in  the  suburbs 
of  Saint  Germain,  then  called  "little  Geneva," f  the  per- 
secuted met  to  frame  a  constitution  for  the  churches  of 
France.  To  fully  portray  the  contrast  would  require  a 
volume.     Francis  Morel  was  chosen  moderator  of  this  first 

*  "  Spreto  certne  necis  inetu  ad  urbeiu  conveiiiunt." — Jlmani  Iliss- 
toria,  lib.  xxii.  These  represented  the  churches  of  Dieppe,  St.  Loo, 
Anglers,  Orleans,  Tours,  Saintcs,  Poitiers,  Marennes,  Cliatellcrault,  and 
St.  Jean  d'Angeli.     Laval,  Puawx,  Quiek. 

t  Sani;ermanuin   sulmrhiuni  quod  vnlgo  parvani  Genevam   voca- 
bant. —  Thuani  Hid.,  lib.  xxiii. 
Vol.  I.— U 


122  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

national  synod.  His  nobility  would  have  been  no  shield 
had  he  been  detected.  The  discussions  were  long,  warm 
and  fraternal.  In  four  days  these  men  agreed  upon  a  confes- 
sion of  faith,  which  bound  the  French  churches  in  unity  for 
more  than  two  centuries.  It  was  the  Presbyterian  system 
of  doctrine  and  discipline,  and  need  not  here  be  described. 
In  it  the  genius  of  Calvin  was  manifest,  and  it  perhaps 
came  from  his  hand.  It  seems  to  have  been  published  by 
Chandieu,  but  was  hardly  presented,  as  some  assert,  by 
Coligny  to  King  Henry  11.  in  the  name  of  the  synod.  Au 
event  of  this  sort  belongs  to  a  later  day. 

That  which  struck  the  popular  mind  was  that  this  synod 
was  held  amid  fires  and  gibbets,  and  just  when  the  clouds 
were  gathering  for  a  terrific  storm  of  wrath.  Historians 
have  admired  the  calm  dignity,  the  serene  force,  the  pro- 
found secresy  and  the  moral  grandeur  of  this  assembly. 
The  faithful  saw  the  hand  of  Jehovah  guiding  his  Church. 
By  his  Spirit  it  had  been  well  timed.  Had  it  been  at- 
tempted at  a  later  day  it  might  have  been  a  failure.  Amid 
deeper,  angrier  waters  the  foundations  of  a  glorious  Church 
might  not  have  been  laid  ;  the  grand  light-house  might  not 
have  risen  as  an  Eddystone  tower  in  the  channel  of  civil 
wars.  There  was  reason  to  believe  that  four  hundred  thou- 
sand people  would  rejoice  in  this  union,  and  gradually  form 
a  great  party  eager  for  the  rights  of  conscience,  of  faith  and 
of  worship.  Not  that  all  of  them  were  devoted  to  piety,  but 
the  Protestant  churches  would  di'aw  to  them  thousands  who 
desired  more  liberty  in  their  political  life.  The  deputies 
parted  with  a  grateful  song  and  fervent  prayer,  and  went 
their  way  to  endure  with  heroism  the  baptism  of  blood  and 
the  trial  by  fire.  They  gave  their  confession  to  the  world, 
and  then  came  the  crisis. 

Here,  then,  was  a  new  organization,  but  did  it  "add 
another  element  of  strife  to  the  contest  between  the  two  re- 


COURAGE  IN  irrnn  places.  123 

ligions?"  What  if  it  did?  Expodioncy  does  not  determine 
its  lawfulness.  It  was  a  dangerous  jDolicy  for  the  apostles 
to  reconstruct  the  Church  in  Jerusalem,  but  it  was  their 
duty.  There  was  no  policy  that  would  ensnre  safety  to 
Chandieu  and  his  brethren,  but  there  was  a  necessity  for 
them  to  construct  a  fold  for  the  beaten  and  hunted  flock  of 
God.  And  what  other  form  of  church  government  would 
have  proved  less  offensive?  Independency  would  have  ex- 
posed them  just  as  much  to  the  violence  of  their  neighbours. 
Episcopacy  would  have  brought  upon  their  bishops  and 
other  clergy  a  hatred  intensified  by  jealousy  and  com- 
petition. Not  as  a  policy,  but  as  a  principle,  they  chose  Pres- 
byterianism.  No  doubt  "  the  Romish  clergy  abhorred  it  as 
a  sign  of  the  increasing  power  and  boldness  of  the  Re- 
formed party,  while  the  statesmen  of  the  day  could  not  but 
lijok  upon  it  with  suspicion  as  a  sort  of  imperlum  in  im- 
perlo ;"  yet  what  possible  escape  would  any  other  system 
have  aflbrded?  Any  Protestant  form  of  church  organi- 
zation must  have  been  as  liable  to  be  regarded  by  the 
l)aj>ists  as  "a  dangerous  rival  to  the  civil  power,  and 
savonring  of  rebellion,  inasmuch  as  it  ignored  the  headship 
alike  of  pope  and  king,  acknowledging  that  of  God  alone." 
When  one  party  of  the  English  Protestants  ascribed  a 
"headship"  to  their  king  they  were  charged  with  "rebel- 
lion" quite  as  much  as  the  Puritans.  It  must  have  been  so 
in  France,  unless  the  king  would  accept  the  "headship" — a 
tiling  that  none  could  expect — and,  even  then,  Rome  would 
not  have  lessened  her  rigours.  We  can  hardly  thiidc  that 
"the  Reformed  Church  would  have  struck  deeper  root"  in 
France  if  it  had  adopted  a  less  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment. Reform  in  any  shape  was  anti-pajjal,  and  therefore 
intensely  hated. 

Wise  or  impolitic,  these  men  asked  that   one  question 
which  gave  decision  to  the  men  of  God  in  all  ages:  "Is  it 


124  ADMIPAL   COLIGNY. 

right?"  And  they  were  only  a  few  of  those  champions 
who  were  then  waging  for  us  the  battle  of  civil  and  religious 
liberty.  In  seeking  a  Church  free  from  popery,  they  were, 
unconsciously,  opening  the  road  to  a  state  free  from  ty- 
ranny— a  state  which  people  in  other  lands  were  to  estab- 
lish. If  our  admiration  of  a  recent  writer  is  not  apparent 
in  some  of  the  preceding  lines,  we  make  amends  by  quoting 
his  compliment  to  "  the  history  of  the  chief  Calvinistic 
churches."  He  affirms  that,  "  In  Switzerland  and  Holland, 
in  England  and  in  North  America,  wherever  this  organi- 
zation has  been  able  to  control  the  political  power,  a  repub- 
lic has  followed.  These  are,  indeed,  the  parts  of  the  world 
where  liberty  flourishes  most,  and  for  this  noble  fruit  we 
may  well  love  the  tree  that  bore  it;  but  in  the  sixteenth 
century  the  tendency  of  society  was  toward  despotism,  not 
toward  self-government ;  and  the  statesmen  of  Europe  must 
be  excused  if  they  were  not  clear-sighted  enough  to  see  that 
the  new  movement  must  inevitably  succeed,  or  wise  enough 
to  become  the  leaders  and  controllers  of  the  popular 
feelings."* 

About  four  leagues  north  of  Paris  was  the  castle  of 
Ecouen,  belonging  to  Montmorency,  King  Henry  was 
there  in  June,  1559,  and,  hearing  of  the  synod,  he  put  his 
seal  to  an  edict  more  terrific  than  that  of  Chateaubriand. 
Death  was  the  penalty  upon  every  "  Lutheran"-  who  was 
convicted,  and  every  one  was  sure  to  be  if  arrested.  What 
state  crimes  had  these  miscalled  "  Lutherans"  introduced  ? 
None  whatever.  They  had  granted  more  than  some  men 
would  now  concede  as  to  the  "  first  table"  of  the  moral 
law.  In  their  synod  they  had  declared  that  God  had  or- 
dained governments  of  every  sort,  and  that  "  He  has  put 

*  Henry  White,  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  London,  1S68. 
This  work  came  fresh  to  me  while  I  was  giving  my  mannscripts  the 
third  revision.     Compare  Preface  to  Motley's  Dutch  Republic. 


COURAGK    IN    HKIII    I'LACES.  125 

the  sword  into  the  nia^.'-ist rate's  hands  to  repress  sins,  not 
only  against  the  second  table  of  God's  commandments,  but 
likewise  against  the  first.  We  must  not  only  endure  that 
the  superiors  have  rule  over  us,  but  likewise  honour  and 
esteem  them.  .  .  .  AVe  hold  that  we  must  obey  their  laws, 
pay  all  tribute,  taxes  and  dues,  and  bear  the  yoke  of  sub- 
jection with  a  good  and  free  will,  even  though  they  should 
be  infidels;  provided  that  the  empire  of  God  remain  whole. 
.  .  .  We  abhor  those  who  reject  superiorities,  set  up  a  com- 
munity of  goods,  put  everything  in  confusion  and  overturn 
the  order  of  justice."  *  These  were  the  people  marked  for 
death. 

But  first  the  persecut(jrs  almost  fell  out  among  them- 
selves. Parliament  had  established  a  chamber  to  take  the 
especial  charge  of  the  "  Lutherans."  It  consigned  so  many 
to  the  flames  that  it  won  for  itself  the  awful  name  of  "  the 
burning  chamber."  f  It  was  sufficiently  Spanish  to  treat 
without  mercy  all  who  despised  the  mass. 

A  later  creation  was  the  Tournelfe,  "  a  chamhor  estab- 
lislu'd  in  each  {)arliament  (of  France)  to  judge  of  crimes 
and  heresies."  I  Cruel  enough,  it  had  nevertheless  released 
so  many  of  the  accused  that  the  one  in  Paris  was  regarded 
as  a  chamber  of  mercy.  It  often  opened  a  door  of  escape 
that  the  prisoner  might  flee  to  another  clime.  These  two 
courts  were  usually  at  war  with  each  other,  but  a  singular 
ca.se  increased  the  sharpness  between  them. 

Four  students,  upright,  blameless,  but  zealous  Calvinists, 
were  tried  by  the   lower  courts  and  condemned   to   death. 

''  For  tlie  lii.«tt)i-y  and  artii-Ii-s  of  tliis  sviind,  see  Quick,  Syiiodicoii 
in  Oallia  Keformata  ;  Tliiiaiii  Ilisloria;  Muinoires  de  Condi';  Laval  and 
Piiaiix. 

f  TaillandiiT,  llegistrcs  dii  Parliament.  It  is  also  called  "  La 
Chambre  des  Lutherans." 

X  Taillandier. 
11  * 


126  ADMIRAL    COLIGXV. 

They  api->ealcd  to  tlie  Tournelle.  The  president  had  the 
young  men  In-ought  before  him.  He  was  eager  to  annul 
the  horrible  sentence,  and  he  warned  them  to  be  cautious 
and  reserved  in  answering  his  questions.  He  tried  them 
on  several  points,  and  finally  asked,  "  Do  you  believe  that 
Christ  is  really  present  in  the  Lord's  Supper?" 

"  We  believe  that  Christ  is  really  present  in  his  divine 
nature ;"  but  as  they  had  been  put  on  their  guard,  they  did 
not  explain  the  difference  between  the  Romish  doctrine  of 
the  bodily  presence  and  the  Reformed  doctrine  of  the 
spiritual  presence  of  Christ. 

"  That  is  sufficient,"  said  the  president,  hoping  that  their 
release  was  at  hand.  The  majority  of  the  judges  were  sat- 
isfied. The  former  sentence  would  have  been  reversed  if 
one  member  had  not  asked,  "  Are  you  willing  to  assist  at 
mass  ?" 

"  We  are  not,"  they  replied,  without  hesitation. 

"  Why  not?     State  your  reasons." 

The  president,  seeing  that  if  they  explained  on  tlie  spot 
they  must  be  utterly  lost,  said,  "You  will  give  your  reasons 
in  writing,  and  may  have  twenty-four  hours  to  prepare  your 
answer." 

The  students  cared  less  for  their  lives  than  for  the  truth, 
and  disdained  to  prevaricate.  AVhen  the  court  met  again 
their  paper  was  read.  The  judges  were  astonished.  It  con- 
tained one  of  the  strongest  protests  against  the  mass.  Still, 
the  greater  part  of  the  court  persevered  in  mercy.  They 
Kiid,  "The  law  pronounces  death  against  those  only  who 
deny  the  real  presence;  these  young  men  admit  a  certain 
real  presence.  The  former  sentence  is  revoked,  but  as  they 
have  shown  disrespect  for  the  mass,  they  may  be  banished." 
They  were  released,  hapjiy  in  their  exile.  The  public  voice 
loudly  condemned  this  new  interpretation  of  the  law.  The 
"burning   chamber"  was   indignant.     "Why,"  said   they, 


COURA(JK    IX    UK.  II     I'LACES.  127 

"heresy  is  no  longer  a  crime;  even  Calvin  might  teach  his 
cli)ctrine.s  without  fear ;  magistrates  who  condemn  Protest- 
ants to  death  will  be  called  murderers  of  the  innocent." 

King  Henry  was  vexed  by  this  clashing  of  the  courts. 
He  saw  the  parliament  of  Paris  diviiling  into  three  parties; 
one  headed  by  Le  Maitre,  and  bent  upon  defending  the  Ro- 
man religion  by  the  old  system  of  persecution  ;  a  second 
led  by  men  who  sought  to  adopt  a  middle  course  and  to 
compromise  with  all  parties;  a  third  composed  of  secret 
Reformers,  who  from  day  to  day  declared  themselves  more 
opeidy,  and  sought  to  ensure  liberty  to  the  growing  host  of 
Calvinists.  The  papal  clergy  took  alarm,  and  others  roused 
the  king.  "Hang  at  least  half  a  dozen  of  the  councillors 
as  heretics,"  was  the  advice  of  the  Duchess  Diana.  "Show 
Philip,  so  soon  to  be  your  brother-in-law,  that  you  are  firm 
in  the  faith."  Did  she  wish  to  provide  another  entertain- 
ment at  the  coming  wedding?  Lorraine  assented,  but  tlie 
Marshal  Vieillville  flung  out  his  sarcasm  :  "  If  you  (Henry) 
are  going  to  play  the  theologue  and  inquisitor,  then  let  the 
cardinal  come  and  teach  us  how  to  hold  our  lances  in  the 
tournament."*  The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  saw  trouble  in 
advance  to  the  rising  power  of  the  Guises.  He  knew  that 
almost  all  the  nobles  were  opposed  to  a  house  founded  by 
his  father,  who  was  not  a  true  Frenchman,  however  he 
boasted  of  his  descent  from  Charlemagne.  He  therefore 
hastened  to  direct  the  royal  eye  to  the  breakers  lying  ahead 
of  his  Guisean  ship.  "  Do  you  soberly  think,"  asked  the 
king,  "  that  this  sect,  from  Geneva  will  prove  so  dangerous  ?" 

"Be  assured  of  it,"  replied  the  cardinal;  "and  let  me 
urge  that  the  power  of  the  State  be  employed  for  the  de- 
fence of  the  Church.  If  the  secular  arm  fail  in  its  duty, 
all  the  malcontents  will  rush  into  this  detestable  sect;  they 
will  destroy  the  power  of  the  Ciiurch."  .... 
*  M(5m.  de  Vieillville. 


128  ADMIRAL    COT.IGXV. 

"Is  not  the  Churcli  built  on  the  rock  of  St.  Peter?  (You 
see  I  remember  your  hi^it  sermon.)  And  what  can  destroy 
it?" 

"Then,  Sire,  there  is  all  the  more  reason  to  defend  -what 
cannot  be  destroyed  ?  That  was  the  doctrine  of  my  sermon. 
If  this  be  not  done,  these  miserable  sectarians  will  turn  upon 
you  and  destroy  the  regal  power.  Who  knows  what  the 
Colignys  are  hatching  in  their  retirement?  Who  knows 
what  the  Tournelle  will  next  attempt?  Verily  the  wrath 
of  God  will  rest  upon  you  if  you  delay." 

Henry  wished  to  see  with  his  own  eyes  and  hear  with 
his  own  ears  the  state  of  things  in  his  parliament.  He 
summoned  the  Wednesday-court,*  composed  of  the  presi- 
dents and  judges  of  the  several  courts,  and  other  officers  of 
the  crown.  They  met,  and  it  was  soon  evident  that  the  old 
days  of  unity  in  hating  new  doctrines  and  burning  heretics 
without  a  protest  were  passing  away.  An  angry  debate 
arose  upon  the  mercies  of  the  Tournelle,  the  recent  sen- 
tences, and  the  general  treatment  of  heretics.  President  le 
Maitre  did  his  utmost  to  rouse  a  sweeping  tempest  against 
the  moderate  party  and  the  secret  Reformers.  The  pope 
never  had  a  more  zealous  advocate  for  the  inquisition  ;  he 
would  have  rooted  out  the  tares  with  hot  pincers,  at  the  risk 
of  Avithering  the  wheat,  and  made  jiarliament  solemn  over 
the  funerals  of  its  most  humane  members.  When  the  de- 
bate was  at  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement,  a  sudden  inter- 
ruption drew  every  eye  to  the  doors. 

By  a  preconcerted  plan  the  king  entered ;  in  his  train 
were  Montmorency,  the  Guises,  a  troop  of  Guisards  and  a 
strong-armed  escort.  The  surprised  members  were  cooled 
by  the  rustling  robes  of  their  visitors,  and  gave  silence  to 
their  king.     He  informed  them  that  he  wished  to  profit  by 

*  Called  Merciiriales,  becauiJe  it  was  held  on  Wednesday,  the  dies 
Mercurii. — Tallandier,  Regislres  du  Parliament. 


COURAGE   IN    HIGH    PLACES.  129 

their  discupsioiiis,  and  ordered  them  to  proceed.  Recover- 
ing their  spirits,  they  expressed  their  views  freely  and 
cknirly.  Louis  (hi  Fuur,  a  distinguished  lawyer,  took  the 
side  of  the  Protestants.  "The  differences  in  religious  opin- 
ions are  assuredly  the  cause  of  the  present  troul)les,"  said 
he,  "but  the  first  step  toward  a  remedy  ought  to  be  an  in- 
quiry into  the  parties.  On  which  side  does  the  chief  blame 
rest?  That  of  the  Protestants,  or  that  of  the  government 
which  persecutes  them?  Let  us  search  for  this,  lest  the 
question  of  the  prophet*  to  the  unrighteous  Ahab  be  ap- 
plied in  this  instance,  'Art  thou  he  that  troublest  Israel?'" 
The  king  made  a  note  of  this  bold  speech,  which  opened 
the  way  for  one  bolder  still. 

Anne  du  Bourg  arose.  The  gaze  of  all  was  fixed  upon 
one  of  the  greatest  men  of  the  realm,  who  saw  not  yet  the 
glitter  of  the  martyr's  crown.  He  was  thirty-eiglit  years 
of  age,  of  a  family  honoured  in  his  native  Auvergne,  and 
the  nephewf  of  a  chancellor  of  France.  He  had  studied 
theology,  been  ordained  a  priest,  then  devoted  himself  to 
the  law,  and  in  1557  been  elected  to  the  parliament  of 
Paris.  He  was  a  man  of  great  learning,  integrity  and  liu- 
mnn  kindness.  AVe  must  condense  his  speech.  "  I  thank 
tlic  king,"  said  he,  "  for  his  resolution  to  probe  this  ques- 
tion to  the  core,  and  to  act  according  to  the  rules  of  justice. 
Of  what  crimes  are  these  men  guilty?  Of  treason?  They 
never  omit  the  name  of  the  king  from  their  prayers.  What 
revolt  have  they  headed?  Ah  !  they  have  discovered  great 
vices  and  scandals  in  the  Koman  Church,  and  petitioned 
for  a  reform  !  They  have  sought  the  truth,  and  I  suspect 
they  have  found  it.  .  .  .  Why  is  the  search  for  truth  regarded 

*  It  wa.s  Aliab  wlio  put  tliis  question  to  the  propliet.  Du  Fuur  wjis 
not  the  last  public  man  who  made  an  error  in  lii.s  quotations  from  the 
r.ihle. 

t  Calvin  says,  "  the  grandson  of  the  Chancellor  du  Bourg." 


130  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

a  crime  ?  Why  must  it  be  singled  out  and  made  the  point 
of  attack  ?  There  are  crying  sins,  such  as  blasphemy,  per- 
jury and  licentiousness,  stalking  abroad  in  noonday,  un- 
abashed and  unpunished ;  while  new  and  unheard-of  pen- 
alties are  devised  against  men  guilty  of  no  crime  but  that 
of  raising  the  lainp  of  Scripture,  to  discover  by  its  light  the 
corruptions  of  Rome.  Popes  have  refused  to  call  a  general 
council  to  reform  the  abuses  of  the  Church ;  kings  have 
been  too  much  occupied  in  schemes  of  ambition  to  attend 
to  spiritual  affairs ;  and  a  few  courageous  men  have  felt 
compelled  to  take  this  great  work  in  hand.  They  have 
founded  a  goodly  edifice  on  the  Word  of  God  and  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  early  Church.  How  praiseworthy  the  enter- 
prise !  How  great  the  blessings  to  be  derived  from  it !  And 
yet  Christendom,  for  the  most  part,  has  arrayed  itself 
against  this  labour  of  love,  by  edicts  and  proscriptions,  by 
terms  of  punishment  and  threats  of  excommunication.  They 
have  forgotten  that  the  Father  of  all  truth  has  freed  the 
soul  of  man  from  the  sword  of  the  tyrant,  and  that  a  well- 
grounded  opinion  can  never  be  destroyed  except  by  the  su- 
perior weight  of  an  opposite  opinion  more  consonant  with 
reason.  God  forbid  that  France  should  persist  in  following 
the  insane  example  of  Germany  !  If  she  do,  the  land  will 
be  fouled  by  massacre  and  carnage ;  defaced  by  butchery 
and  scaff*olds ;  blackened  by  the  smoke  of  persecuting 
flames ;  and  after  all  these  horrors,  we  shall  be  eager  to  re- 
trace every  step  which  we  have  trodden  in  blood Let 

me  advise  the  king  to  employ  every  effort  to  call  a  general 
council,  and  if  he  fail  in  that  attempt,  to  assemble,  in  his 
own  realm,  the  most  pious  and  learned  divines,  who  may 
confer  together  and  effect  a  salutary  reform.  In  the  mean 
time,  let  all  suits  for  religious  offences  be  suspended.  It  is 
no  light  thing  to  condemn  those  w^ho  confess  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ  with  piety  in  their  harmless  meetings,  with 


COURAGE   IN    HIGH    PLACES.  131 

courage  in  the  face  of  violence,  and  with  gh)ry  in  tlio  midst 
of  the  flames." 

"  Rank  licresy  I"  whispered  certain  persons,  wh(;  knew 
that  the  sentiment  would  prove  them  to  be  loyal.  ^More 
cautious  speeches  followed  from  the  moderate  party.  Then 
the  fiery  Le  Maitre  arose,  breathing  the  spirit  of  Torque- 
niada,  the  champion  of  the  Inquisition.  He  praised  the 
pious  energy  of  Philip  the  August,  who  in  a  single  day 
ordered  six  hundred  Albigenses  to  be  burned  in  his  presT 
ence,  and  furnishccl  the  present  king  uith  an  example 
worthy  of  imitation  ! 

The  king  arose  greatly  agitated.  He  thought  that  the 
charge  of  gross  crimes  was  hurled  against  himself,  for  con- 
science was  speaking.  He  conferred  witli  his  cardinals; 
then,  leaving  the  chamber,  he  ordered  Montgomery,  the 
commander  of  the  Scotch  guard,  to  arrest  Du  Faur  and 
Du  Bourg,  with  six  other  members,  who  were  at  their 
homes.  Three  of  the  nameless  six  had  timely  warning  and 
escaped.  All  the  others  were  thrown  into  the  Bastille,  "the 
abode  of  broken  hearts." 

"  Hasten  forward  the  proceedings,"  said  Heniy,  "  for  I 
swear  that  both  my  eyes  shall  see  Du  Bourg  burnt  at  the 
stake."  Nine  days  after  the  arrest  the  trial  commenced. 
He  insisted  upon  being  tried  before  his  peers,  but  the  king 
appointed  a  commission,  declaring  that  if  the  prisonfc»r 
would  not  plead,  he  should  be  regarded  as  already  con- 
demned. He  protested,  but  the  trial  went  on.  Questions 
were  asked  him  concerning  his  faith,  and  his  answers  were 
so  sound  that  he  was  pronounced  a  heretic.  Short  would 
have  been  the  work  of  death,  but  for  one  event,  which  will 
be  related  in  the  next  cha])ter.  There  were  two  things  that 
King  Henry  could  do  at  the  same  time:  order  the  burning 
of  heretics  and  engage  in  scenes  of  revelry.  If  he  had 
attended   only  to  the  first,  he  might  have  prolonged  his 


132  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

own  life ;  if  he  had  given  himself  wholly  to  the  second,  the 
life  of  Du  Bourg  might  not  have  been  in  jeopardy.  In  two 
days  more  Henry  would  be  struggling  with  death. 

The  prisoner  in  the  Bastille  kept  his  soul  free  from  the 
tyranny  of  man,  delighted  in  the  word  of  God,  held  fellow- 
ship with  the  once  crucified  Lord,  prepared  himself  for  tlie 
worst  that  man  could  do,  and  waited  for  that  higher  liberty 
which  no  one  fully  knows  until  he  enters  heaven.  Thus  he 
made  his  captivity  blessed.* 

*  TImani,  Historia;  Lacratelle;  Biographic  Universelle. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

rUE    GUISES    IN   I'OWER. 
(1558-1530.) 

COLIGNY  and  William  of  Orange  had  fought  against 
each  other  in  Picardy,  not  foreseeing  the  warm  friend- 
ship that  would  some  time  bind  them  together  in  one  great 
cause.  William  had  been  the  secret  negotiator  with  Mont- 
morency in  the  treaty  of  peace  at  Cateau.  He  Avas  one  of 
the  hostages  selected  by  Henry  II.  to  ensure  the  keeping  of 
the  peace.  While  in  France  he  made  the  singular  discov- 
ery which  was  to  colour  his  life.  He  was  one  day  hunting 
with  the  king  in  the  fox-est  of  Vincennes  when  they  found 
themselves  separated  from  all  other  company.  Henry  was 
tliiuking  of  a  secret  article  of  the  treaty,  by  which  he 
bound  himself  to  make  the  uprooting  of  heresy  his  chief 
business.  This  would  commend  him  to  Philip's  heart  and 
brotherhood.  Spanish  love  called  for  Christian  blood  in 
matters  of  religion. 

"  Your  majesty's  mind  seems  not  to  be  so  cheerful  as 
usual,"  said  William,  aS'  their  horses'  heads  were  turned 
together. 

"  There  is  enough  to  make  me  solemn,"  replied  Henry, 
who  imagined  that  William  was  a  party  to  all  Philip's 
secret  plots,  "  for  the  sectaries  increase  daily  in  my  king- 
dom. Even  the  nobles  are  fast  going  over  to  the  new  doc- 
trines. Like  fire,  the  more  they  are  beaten,  the  more  they 
spread.  I  shall  never  be  easy  until  the  land  is  swept  clear 
of  these  accursed  vermin.  I  expect  every  day  to  hear  of  a 
revolt  of  the  nobles,  under  the  name  of  a  Reform ;  but  yet, 
Vol.  I.— 12  133 


134  ADMIUAL    COLKi.W. 

with  the  favour  of  Heaven  and  the  aid  of  my  son  and 
brother  Philip,  I  hope  soon  to  master  the  rebels."  We 
recall  the  conversations  between  Lorraine  and  Granvelle. 

This  was  all  news  to  young  Orange,  but  he  kept  his 
astonishment  to  himself  The  king  then  proceeded  to  lay 
before  his  (li^creet  friend  the  particulars  of  a  plot,  and  the 
manner  in  which  all  heretics  were  to  be  discovered  and  put 
to  death  by  a  wholesale  massacre.  Philip  was  to  use  his 
army  in  making  a  clean  sweep  in  the  Netherlands,  while 
Henry  was  to  enlist  the  Roman  Catholics  for  the  secret 
work  of  extermination  in  France.  The  face  of  Prince 
AVilliam  betrayed  n<me  of  the  indignation  pent  up  in  his 
soul,  and  he  won  thereby  the  name  of  "  the  Silent."  Henry 
had  blundered ;  he  had  revealed  a  secret  of  great  value  to 
the  man  who  was  to  defeat  the  plot  in  his  own  country,  and 
finally  to  liberate  his  people  froni  the  double  tyranny  of 
Spain  and  Rome.  Wo  have  noticed  this  to  show  that 
the  plan  of  a  great  massacre  was  not  a  new  invention  in 
1572;  it  was  entertained  thirteen  years  earlier.  Henry  de- 
signed to  make  the  first  attemj)t ;  his  widow,  Catherine,  was 
the  soul  of  the  second,  and  the  woman  succeeded,  but  in 
each  instance  Philip  of  Spain  was  the  prompter  behind  the 
scene  of  blood. 

Such  was  the  meaning  of  the  secret  article  in  the  treaty 
between  the  two  kings.  Philip  gave  the  plan  for  getting 
rid  of  heretics ;  the  price  thereof  was  a  wife  for  the  in- 
ventor. Henry  paid  it  by  pledging  his  daughter,  Elizabeth, 
to  Philip  II.  She  was  to  be  delivered  to  the  Spanish  com- 
mittee in  Paris,  and  when  the  time  came  the  aflfairs  of  Du 
Bourg  were  attracting  attention.  The  Cardinal  of  Lor- 
raine suggested  that  the  most  agreeable  exhibition  to  ofl^er 
to  these  Spanish  gentlemen  would  be  the  burning  of  half 
a  dozen  councillors  on  the  public  square.  "  We  must 
give,"  said  he,  "this  junket  to  these  grandees  of  Spain!" 


THE    GUISIIS    IN    POM-ER.  135 

"The  judi^cs  will  liave  them  ready,"  thought  the  king, 
"by  the  time  that  the  wedding  festivities  are  ended."  Even 
now  he  was  ordering  an  expedition  to  march  and  sweep 
lieresy  out  of"  one  of  the  provinces. 

This  wedding  was  made  sjjlendid  in  honour  of  the  late 
peace.  The  Duke  of  Alva  acted  as  proxy  for  Philip. 
Among  other  revelries  was  the  tournament,  of  which  Henry 
was  excessively  fond.  Not  one  was  held  at  the  court  in 
which  he  did  not  "don  his  helm  and  break  his  lance."  A 
few  days  after  he  had  sworn  that  he  would  see  Du  Bourg 
burnt  at  the  stake  he  was  mounted  on  a  war  horse  and 
running  in  the  lists  with  the  bravest  knights  of  the  time. 
The  tournament  was  held  in  front  of  the  Bastille,  where  lay 
the  men  on  whom  he  sought  to  have  vengeance. 

The  king  was  urged  to  retire  amid  the  universal  applause, 
but  seeing  two  lances  yet  unbroken,  he  seized  one  of  them 
and  ordered  the  other  to  be  given  to  Gabriel  Montgomery, 
the  grandson  of  a  Scotsman,  a  Protestant  worthy  of  fame, 
and  the  commander  of  the  Scotch  guards.  Many  a  Cale- 
donian family  had  settled  in  France:  this  name  was  one 
of  the  noblest.  Thrice  the  honour  was  declined  by  Mont- 
gomery.    He  begged  to  be  excused. 

"  We  entreat  your  majesty  to  retire,"  said  the  queen  and 
the  court  ladies. 

"  Not  while  there  remains  a  lance  to  break,"  rejjlied 
Henry,  and  then,  springing  forward,  he  put  the  Scot  on  the 
defensive.  The  two  men  came  together  with  so  rude  a 
shock  that  the  shaft  of  ^Montgomery  broke  upon  the  king's 
vizor.  A  splinter  entered  his  eye,  piercing  so  deeply  that 
he  was  carried  from  the  lists  unconscious  of  the  lamenta- 
tions which  filled  the  air.  Some  writers  give  a  rej^ort,  then 
current,  that  when  conveyed  to  the  i>alace,  he  looked  back 
at  the  Bastille,  and  said,  "  I  fear  that  I  have  wronged  the 
innocent  councillors  shut  u]i  within  those  walls." 


136  ADMIEAIi    COLIGNY. 

"  That  thought  is  suggested  by  the  tempter,"  whispered 
the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  according  to  the  report.  "  Be 
watchful  unto  the  end ;  persevere  in  the  faith."  This  wily 
prelate  was  ca})able  of  thus  drying  up  the  healing  waters 
of  charity,  and  keeping  the  heart  of  a  dying  king  burning 
with  revenge.  But  the  king,  probably,  spoke  not  a  word 
after  he  was  struck.  He  died  the  next  month,  July,  in  the 
very  hall  decorated  for  the  wedding. 

No  doubt  some  of  the  Protestants  gave  thanks  to  God 
for  the  removal  of  their  persecutor  the  king,  who  was 
struck  down  at  the  very  time  when  he  was  giving  orders  for 
a  wholesale  slaughter  of  the  Protestants,  and  proposing  a 
crusade  against  Geneva,  which  Alva  called  "  the  sink  of 
corruption."  History  has  severely  judged  him.  "  Of  this 
weak  and  worthless  prince,  all  that  his  flatterers  could 
favourably  urge  was  his  great  fondness  for  war,  as  if  a  san- 
guinary propensity,  even  when  accompanied  by  a  spark  of 
military  talent,  were  of  itself  a  virtue.  Yet  with  his  deatli 
the  kingdom  fell  even  into  more  pernicious  hands,  and  the 
fate  of  Christendom  grew  darker  than  ever."  *  Days  were 
coming  when  the  Protestants,  chased,  cornered  and  crushed 
for  a  long  period  of  woe,  would  look  back  and  wish  that 
the  days  of  Henry  had  been  prolonged.  A  bad  ruler  is 
sometimes  made  popular  by  having  a  far  worse  successor. 

The  Protestants  could  not  fail  to  notice  that  death  entered 
through  one  of  the  eyes  which  he  liad  sworn  should  look 
upon  Du  Bourg  at  the  stake,  and  by  the  lance  of  the  very 
man  employed  to  arrest  the  councillors.  They  saw  in  it 
the  judgment  of  God.  AVas  it  not  strange  also  that  the 
royal  corpse  was  covered  with  a  rich  tapestry  into  which 
was  woven  the  picture  of  Saul  smitten  down  on  the  way  to 
Damascus,  and  bearing  the  words,  "Saul,  Saul,  why  perse- 
cutest  tliou  me?"  It  was  not  intentional;  the  mistake  was 
*  Motley,  Dutch  RcDublic. 


THK    GIISKS    IX    POWER.  137 

seen  and  the  tapestry  was  removed,  but  not  until  the  ru- 
mour had  got  wing,  so  that  all  France  whispered  it,  and 
many  thought  it  a  provi<lential  rebuke  upon  a  king  who 
had  iiercily  persecuted  the  saints  of  God.* 

Francis  II.  ascended  the  throne  for  a  short  ])ut  eventful 
reign.  He  was  scarcely  more  than  sixteen,  delicate  in  body, 
feeble  in  spirit,  "  without  virtues  or  vices,"  and  as  little  the 
master  of  himself  as  he  was  king  of  the  realm.  His  wife, 
Mary  of  Scots,  might  have  illustrated  her  powerful  talents 
had  not  a  Medici  been  in  her  way,  or  the  Guises  aimed  to 
make  their  niece  the  means  of  their  own  selfish  advance- 
ment. One  of  these  crafty  uncles  lost  not  a  moment, work- 
ing himself  and  brother  into  power,  as  if  king,  queen,  court, 
army,  government  and  treasury  all  were  their  own.  "  It 
was  a  great  misfortune  for  France  that  the  Duke  of  Guise 
had  such  a  brother  as  the  cardinal,"  for  otherwise  the  able 
warrior  might  have  served  nobly  his  country.  "  He  must 
sometimes  yield  to  the  insolent  and  scheming  prelate,  the 
most  dangerous  man  of  his  age.  The  one  was  named  min- 
ister of  war,  the  other  of  the  finances." f  There  was  danger 
tliat  these  men  would  imitate  tlio  ancient  mayors  of  the 
palace  and  usurp  the  throne. 

Wiiile  King  Henry  was  lying  for  a  month  speechless, 
hopeless  of  life,  and  wished  out  of  the  world  by  the  Lorraine 
faction,  the  veteran  Montmorency  saw  what  was  coming. 
A  regency  would  be  wanted,  and  the  right  to  it  rested  in  the 
house  of  Bourbon.  He  wrote  a  letter  and  gave  it  to  a 
courier,  saying :  "  All  haste,  and  no  treachery,  at  the  peril 
of  your  life."  We  follow  the  messenger  over  the  long  ride 
to  the  castle  of  Nerac  in  Navarre.  Antony  and  his  queen 
break  the  seals;  they  read  words  of  this  import:  "Come 

*  Tluiani  Historia;  Memoires  de  Coiidt'  (  Discour.s  de  l:i  Mort  dii 
Henry  II.);  Biographic  Universelle. 
f  Lacratelle;  Memoires  do  Castclnaii. 
12  -^ 


138  ADMIRAL    rOLIGNV. 

post-haste  to  Paris.  The  dau})hin  will  soon  be  king,  and 
the  Guises  will  rule  over  him  if  you  are  not  hei'e  to  take 
the  regency.  I  can  manage  Catherine  until  you  come. 
She  will  listen  to  Coligny  and  keep  the  cardinal  at  bay  for 
a  little  time.  She  will  favour  the  strongest  party ;  therefore 
show  your  strength." 

Jeanne  d'Albret  hailed  the  summons  as  one  sent  by  Pro- 
vidence. If  Henry  must  die,  it  was  for  the  peace  of  God's 
chosen  ones,  to  whom  she  had  afforded  every  protection. 
AVhat  a  grand  prospect  for  France  !  The  young  king  under 
the  guardianship  of  a  prince  who  aided  the  Reform  !  The 
kingdom  freed  from  Spanish  rule  and  the  foreign  house  of 
Lorraine  abased !  But  Antony  failed  to  see  his  oppor- 
tunity. His  feeble  soul  was  appalled.  He  would  lament 
over  lost  rights,  but  he  shrank  from  putting  forth  a  hand  to 
prevent  them  from  being  lost.  Jeanne  heard  his  excuses, 
and  answered  them  with  eloquence  and  irony  : 

"  So  you  will  not  retrieve  your  fortunes  !  Because  Pliilip 
and  Henry*  did  nothing  for  you  in  their  treaties,  you  will 
do  nothing  for  yourself,  even  when  God  opens  the  way. 
Very  well !  Sit  here  and  be  the  football  of  kings.  Mur- 
mur and  moan  that  your  rivals  grasp  what  you  seek,  but 
remember  that  if  you  would  put  forth  an  equal  energy, 
you  would  see  them  humbled  and  yourself  exalted.  Rouse 
up ;  you  might  deliver  France." 

Antony  left  his  heroic  wife  and  gave  ear  to  other  ad- 
visers. His  favourite  bishop  was  in  the  interest  of  the 
Guises  and  Spaniards.  "It  is  a  trap,"  said  the  bishop. 
"You  will  lose  your  kingdom.     You  may  lose  your  head. 

*  Navarre  liad  long  been  an  object  of  contention  between  Spain  and 
France,  and  Antony  scarcely  knew  to  which  it  would  fall.  It  was  to 
liave  been  made  more  free  and  independent  by  the  treat)'  of  Cateau- 
Canibresis,  but  botii  kings  neglected  it.  It  owed  an  allegiance  to 
France. 


TUE    GUISES    IN    I'OWEIJ.  139 

riiilip  of  Sp.iin  will  send  an  army  into  Xavarrc."  Antony 
indulged  these  gloomy  forebodings,  and  resolved  to  wait  un- 
til good  fortune  should  take  the  paius  to  come  all  the  way 
to  him.  It  was  quite  as  well ;  he  would  have  only  the 
eoouer  become  ensnared  in  the  wiles  of  his  destroyers.  It 
was  not  for  such  a  prince  to  arrest  the  course  of  the  ascend- 
ing Guises,  raise  the  fallen  house  of  Bourbon,  paralyze  the 
iron  hand  of  tyranny  and  create  a  mild  and  just  adminis- 
tration. As  well  expect  a  reed  to  stay  an  avalanche.  The 
mission  was  grand ;  it  was  his  right,  but  he  was  found  want- 
ing. His  was  the  case  of  a  man  waiting  for  the  tide,  and 
yet  afraid  to  venture  upon  it ;  eager  for  power,  yet  unequal 
to  its  responsibilities ;  flattered  by  hope  and  mortified  by 
neglect ;  offered  a  great  occasion,  and  yet  listless  to  the  call 
of  a  splendid  duty.  Whether  in  Chuch  or  State  such  men 
never  cross  the  Kubicon,  never  decide  at  the  moment  when 
earth  and  heaven  wait  for  them,  never  do  anything  with  all 
their  might. 

At  length  the  brave  Jeanne  made  one  more  effort.  His 
brother  Louis  made  a  desperate  appeal  to  Antony's  patriot- 
ism, and  this  first  prince  of  the  blood  consented  to  go  to 
Paris  on  condition  that  Conde,  Coligny,  a  duke  or  two  and 
the  secretary  of  jNIontmorency  should  meet  him  at  Ven- 
dorae  and  be  his  body-guard  to  the  capital.  Note  the 
meeting-place;  this  appointment  will  bring  thither  the  Pro- 
testant nobles  to  hold  their  first  political  assembly — one 
almost  as  big  with  results  to  the  State  as  was  the  synod  just 
held  in  Paris  to  the  Church. 

In  the  general  clearing  out  of  Henry's  cabinet  the  new 
broom  of  Lorraine  was  applied  to  Montmorency  in  the  fol- 
lowing delicate  way  :  "You  are  worthy  of  rest.  The  nation 
has  long  had  the  benefit  of  your  wisdom  at  the  cost  of  your 
experience.  Much  as  your  counsels  would  profit  us,  it 
would  be  cruel  to  draw  oflT  your  strength  to  the  very  dregs. 


140  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

Like  old  wine,  it  f^hoiild  be  kept  only  for  choice  occasions. 
The  only  reward  worthy  of  your  great  services  is  repose. 
We  permit  you  to  retire."  And  he  did  retire  to  Chantilly, 
to  drink  tlie  bitter  waters  of  a  second  disgrace.*  He,  too, 
would  have  a  word  ready  for  the  coming  assembly  at 
Vendoine. 

Catherine  was  the  regent,  and,  therefore,  the  ruler.  But 
as  she  does  not  yet  appear  in  her  full  character,  her  portrait 
may  be  deferred.  The  real  managers  were  the  two  older 
Guises.f  Francis  put  on  the  airs  of  a  prince,  and  was  often 
generous.  The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  was  every  sort  of  a 
man,  according  to  circumstances.  He  once  was  busy  in  his 
diocese  of  Rheims,  and  he  wrote :  "  I  have  nothing  to  write 
about  but  prayers  and  preaching,  instructing  my  little  flock, 
and  taking  as  much  pleasure  in  it  as  I  once  did  in  the  cares 
and  toils  of  the  court."  But  prosperity  made  him  intoler- 
able. Brantome  says :  "  When  he  was  on  his  high  horse, 
he  regarded  nobody ;  when  he  was  low  in  the  world,  he 
courted  everybody.  He  was  thought  to  be  a  hypocrite  in 
religion,  using  it  to  build  up  his  own  greatness.  I  have 
heard,  him  talk  of  the  Confession  of  Augsburg,  half  ap- 
proving it.  At  times  he  almost  preached  it,  to  please  the 
Germans."  He  was  better  than  many  others  of  his  rank. 
He  kept  no  hawks,  hounds  nor  racing-horses.  A  Venetian 
said  :  "  He  is  not  much  beloved  ;  he  is  far  from  truthful, 
naturally  covetous,  but  full  of  religion."  He  wore  sack- 
cloth and  fasted  often,  said  grace  at  meals  and  cheated  his 
uncle's  creditors.  80  timid  was  he  that  he  was  attended  by 
an  armed  guard  to  the  very  steps  of  the  altar.  Out  of  his 
immense   income,  from   more   than  a  dozen  benefices,  he 

*  D'.\uvigny,  Vie  de  Montmorency;  Tliuani  Historia. 

t  With  the  army  and  treasury  in  their  hands,  they  had  all  France 
iinder  their  control.  "  Not  a  crown  could  be  spent,  or  a  soldier  moved, 
witliout  their  consent." — Buchanan,  Rerum  Scot.  HiM..  lib.  xvi. 


THE   GUISES    IN    POWER.  141 

sometimes  gave  alms  to  the  poor,  culling  to  liim  the  crowd 
and  pompoui^ly  Hinging  coins  at  their  feet.  AVhen  this  man 
had  power  at  court,  he  advised  persecution  ;  when  he  was  in 
disgrace,  he  plotted  extermination.  He  was  one  of  the 
"  Spanialized  "  party. 

Lines  of  suspicion,  like  a  telegraph  net-work,  Avere 
stretched  over  all  the  face  of  the  realm,  and  along  them 
ran  whispers  of  discontent.  The  nobles  and  chieftains 
feared  a  rebellion — not  among  the  people,  not  in  some  re- 
mote corner,  but  in  the  very  palace,  and  by  those  who 
usurped  the  guardianship  of  the  throne.  They  knew  the 
Absahmis  and  the  Ahithophels,  the  Tarquin  and  the  Martel, 
of  their  day.  There  were  two  classes  of  malcontents — one, 
the  politicians,  who  sought  more  liberty  in  France,  willing 
to  accept  such  fruits  of  the  revival  of  letters  and  religion 
as  would  benefit  the  state.  They  desired  a  new*  order  of 
things,  more  liberal,  more  tolerant  of  free  thought,  and  less 
fettered  brthe  old,  narrow  feudalism  of  the  Dark  Ages. 
Still  in  the  Roman  Church,  they  wished  it  to  make  con- 
verts and  advance.  In  the  provinces,  they  reckoned  upon 
the  whole  party  of  Montmorency;  in  the  parliament,  they 
found  leaders  in  such  champions  of  freedom  as  Du  Bourg 
and  President  Sequier,  who  had  lately  said,  in  a  bold  speech 
in  the  chamber,  "We  al)hor  the  establishment  of  a  tribunal 
of  blood,  where  secret  accusation  takes  the  place  of  proof, 
and  where  the  accused  is  denied  every  natural  means  of 
defence.  Begin,  Sire" — he  was  addressing  King  Henry — 
"begin  by  giving  to  the  nation  an  edict  which  will  not 
cover  the  kingdom  with  funeral  piles-  that  will  be  wetted 
either  with  the  tears  or  blood  of  your  subjects.  At  a  dis- 
tance from  your  presence,  Sire,  and  bowed  down  with 
labours  in  their  fields  and  shops,  they  know  not  what  is 
preparing  against  them.  They  do  not  sus])ect  that,  at  this 
very  hour,  a  scheme  is  laid  to  separate  them  from  you  and 


142  ADMIRAL   rOLIOXY. 

deprive  them  of  their  natural  guardian.  As  for  you,  sirs" 
— he  turned  to  the  ministers  and  councillors  of  state — "  you 
who  hear  me  so  tranquilly,  do  not  suppose  that  you  have 
no  interest  in  this  matter.  To-day  you  are  in  peace  and 
honour.  None  attack  you.  But  the  higher  you  climb  in 
power,  the  nearer  you  are  to  the  thunderbolt,  and  one  must 
be  a  stranger  to  history  not  to  know  what  is  often  the  cause 
of  a  disgrace.  Pass  these  edicts,  and  you  may  soon  lose  all. 
The  people  will  rise  up  against  you.  Establish  an  inquisi- 
tion, and,  though  you  be  saints,  you  may  be  burned  as 
heretics."  * 

In  the  other  class  were  the  Protestants,  still  loyal  to  the 
throne,  but  fearful  of  tlie  usurpers  of  power.  They  began 
to  look  to  Coligny  as  their  model  and  leader.  The  report 
of  his  religious  establishment  at  Chatillon  was  not  long  in 
reaching  them.  Nor.  was  Andelot  far  outdone  by  him  in 
winning  the  good-will  of  the  chieftains.  "  Two  men  such 
as  Coligny  and  Andelot,  joined  to  the  Calvinists  of  France, 
gave  promise  of  a  happy  change  in  their  condition.  They 
opened  their  castles ;  they  entertained  a  great  number  of 
their  former  comrades  in  war.  Such  nobles  as  the  Vidame 
of  Chartres  and  Count  Rochefoucault  thought  it  no  harm 
to  visit  the  Colignys,  and  there  pray  to  God  in  French,  sing 
jNIarot's  psalms  and  evince  their  zeal  for  a  solemn  wor- 
ship." f  About  each  castle  there  was  a  little  Geneva.  But 
the  frequent  convenings  there  were  like  the  gatherings  of 
the  knights  of  old. 

"All  I  ask  of  the  crown  is  that  the  edicts  shall  secure  to 
us  liberty  of  faith,"  said  Coligny.     "  I  ask  no  office.     The 

*  Gamier,  Histoire  de  France,  tome  xiv. ;  Fleury,  Histoire  Eccle- 
Biastiqiie.  Pierre  Seqiiier,  born  in  1504,  died  1580,  holds  rank  with 
such  liberal,  bold  thinkers  a.s  Budeuf5,  Du  Bellay,  De  Thou,  Bisiiops 
Montiic  and  Marillac,  who  were  Protestants  in  the  Roman  Church, 

f  Lacratelle;  Colquhoun,  Jeanne  d'Albret. 


THE    GLIHES    IN    I'OWEH.  143 

country  now  rests  from  war;  I  witsh  to  rest  in  my  home  and 
faniily,  serving  God  among  the  people  around  me." 

"  But  we  all  need  your  public  services,"  replied  the  chief- 
tains more  ambitious  for  political  life.  "Cannot  something 
induce  you  to  hold  office  at  court?" 

"  Nothing  but  the  necessities  of  our  common  cause.  15ut 
there  is  no  danger,  at  ])rcsent,  of  my  being  tempted  in  that 
direction."  Coligny  was  not  naturally  fond  of  work.  The 
short,  slightly-built  man,  of  elegant  addre-ss,  friendly  face, 
low,  musical  voice  and  winning  smile  was  now  more  ready 
to  bring  others  to  his  castle  and  his  hospitality  than  to  gird 
himself,  march  forth  and  share  with  them  in  the  toils  of  the 
rough  world.  Firm  in  purpose,  clear  in  discernment,  quick 
to  see,  prompt  to  judge,  and  yet  slow  to  speak,*  always  })ru- 
dent,  never  carried  away  by  novelties,  nor  guilty  of  using 
friendship  for  selfish  ends,  his  reputation  for  wisdom  and 
safe  counsel  was  soon  widely  known.  The  time  was  coming 
when  a  vast  amount  of  work  would  force  itself  upon  him, 
and  compel  him  to  constant  activity.  Applications  for 
advice  and  assistance  were  pouring  in  every  day.  Hun- 
dreds of  letters  must  be  read  and  answered  every  week. 
A  vast  correspondence  was  forming,  which  reached  into 
every  province  of  France,  and  into  England,  Holland  and 
Germany.  Longing  for  peace,  he  was  to  live  in  almost 
perpetual  Avar. 

We  approach  the  time  of  the  civil  wars  in  France.  At 
the  outset  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  these  fearful 
dramas  were  not  at  first  a  struggle  between  Protestantism 
and  Romanism,     No  greater  mistake  can  be  made  in  history 

*  Coligny  had  a  liabit  of  tliiiikinp;  witli  a  tootlipirk  in  liis  nioiitli, 
wliii'li  prevciiteil  his  words  from  t-vincinji  the  rapitlity  of  liis  thought. 
Brantome  gives  us  the  proverb  then  current,  even  among  tlie  Italians, 
"(}od  save  ine  from  the  mind  and  toothpick  of  the  admiral" — [(iiiimo, 
et  skcco  ikl  umiru<jlio). 


144  ADMIRAL    C'OLIGNY. 

than  to  make  such  assertions.*  France  had  a  nobility  out- 
side of  tlic  house  of  Lorraine,  and  a  people  very  different  from 
those  who  rushed  in  a  mob  a<;iunst  meeting-houses ;  some 
of  these  were  of  the  old  Church,  some  of  the  new ;  but  out 
of  them  all — Papal  and  Protestant — grew  up  a  party  which 
revolted,  not  against  the  throne  itself,  but  against  the  power 
behind  the  throne ;  not  against  kings,  but  against  usurpers. 
The  quick  movement  of  the  Guises  when  the  weak  husband 
of  their  niece  took  the  crown,  drew  sharply  the  party  lines. 
For  a  few  months  all  France  was  Guise  or  anti-Guise.  Be- 
tween the  two  divisions  stood  a  foreigner,  a  Medici — the 
.  cjueen-mother.  Hitherto  neglected,  once  threatened  with  a 
divorce  and  a  dismissal  to  Italy,  long  without  a  shadow  of 
power,  scarcely  recognized  as  a  wife  and  much  less  as  an 
advising  queen,  she  had  waited  her  time,  and  now  she  drew 
all  eyes  to  herself  What  would  she  do?  That  was  the 
universal  question.  All  Europe  wanted  to  know.  The 
pope's  legate  caught  every  whisper  he  could  ;  heard  iSIary 
of  Scots  say  to  her,  in  scorn  of  her  ancestry,  "  You  ought 
always  to  have  remained  a  shopman's  daughter;"  and 
wrote  to  his  master  that  he  could  tell  nothing  about  it — that 

*  "Religion  was  less  the  cause  than  the  pretext,"  says  Lacratelle, 
Guerres  de  Religion,  Tntrotl. 

"The  historians,  who  view  in  religions  wars  only  religion  itself, 
liave  written  large  volumes,  in  which  we  may  never  discover  that  they 
have  either  been  a  struggle  to  obtain  predominance  or  an  expedient 
to  secure  it.  Tlie  hatreds  of  ambitions  men  have  disguised  their  own 
purposes,  while  Christianity  has  borne  the  odium  of  loosening  a  de- 
stroying spirit  among  mankind ;  which,  had  Christianity  never  ex- 
isted, would  have  equally  prevailed  in  human  aifairs.  .  .  .  If  we  call 
that  religiovs  whicli  we  shall  find  for  the  greater  part  is  political,  we  are 
likely  to  be  mistaken  in  tlie  regimen  and  cure.  .  .  .  Good  men  of 
both  parties,  mistaking  the  natures  of  these  religious  wars,  have  drawji 
horrid  inferences." — Di.vaeli,  Curios.  Literal.,  article  on  "  Political 
Religionism,"  all  of  which  we  cannot  endorse. 


THE   GUISES   IN    POWER.  145 

she  was  giving  fiivour  to  the  new  religion,  and  yet  might 
satisfy  the  lloiiiauist.s. 

In  the  state  of  affairs  at  court,  Coligny  and  the  Protestant 
nobles  saw  that  they  must  act  with  vigour  or  lose  every- 
thing. They  saw  that  with  the  advancement  of  the  Guis  -s 
there  must  come  tyranny,  intolerance,  the  inquisition,  the 
hot  heat  of  the  "  Burning  Chamber,"  work  for  the  hang- 
man and  the  desolation  of  the  new  Church.  They  saw 
only  one  person  who  might  hold  the  balance  of  power  be- 
tween all  parties,  and,  strangely  enough,  that  one  was  Ca- 
therine de  Medici !  Wise  as  she  was,  hitherto  reserved, 
enlisting  their  sympathies  while  she  was  kept  in  the  shade, 
captivating,  indulgent  to  the  new  doctrines  among  the  ladies 
of  her  court,  keen  as  a  detective,  no  friend  to  the  Lorraines, 
the  foe  of  the  Spaniards  thus  far,  and  the  hater  of  the 
Duchess  Diana's  abominations  and  hypocrisies,  we  need  not 
wonder  that  the  Protestant  leaders  looked  now  to  her  in 
hope  of  favour.  She  acted  from  policy  ;  they  did  not  yet 
detect  her  want  of  principle.  She  had  been  most  careful 
(tf  her  company,  and  had  lately  shown  a  high  esteem  for 
Admiral  Coligny,  his  half-sister,  Madame  de  Roye,  and 
others  of  the  Reformed  party.  It  was  said  that  she  had 
even  lent  an  ear  to  some  of  the  Calvinistic  preachers  while 
her  royal  husband  was  treating  her  with  his  usual  roval 
neglect.  One  aged  Protestant  recalled  to  her  quick  mind 
the  better  days  when  she  was  enraptured  with  the  Psalms 
of  Marot,  and  sang  them  in  the  palace.  It  was  hoped  that 
she  would  remember  those  good  ministers  who  had  con- 
soled her  when  she  had  so  little  comfort  on  earth  that  she 
inquired  if  there  might  be  any  in  heaven. 

Coligny  and  others  of  the  nobility  addressed  to  her  a  me- 
morial before  the  days  of  her  mourning  were  ended.  In 
the  simplicity  of  their  hearts  they  thus  began:  "The  pity 
and  tlie  good-will  which  your  majesty  has  ever  deigned  to 
Vol.  I, — 13 


146  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

manifest  toward  our  cause  have  long  tauglit  us  to  regard 
you  as  a  second  Esther."  They  assured  her  that  besides 
the  prayer  for  the  hite  king  in  their  service,  they  had  also 
been  in  the  habit  of  entreating  God  to  preserve  and  en- 
lighten her  by  his  law.  They  urged  that  as  the  mother  of 
the  young  king  it  would  be  her  privilege  to  resfcue  the 
guiltless  from  destruction,  and  prevent  her  son  from  cojiy- 
ing  the  example  of  his  predecessors. 

Catherine  had  tears  ever  at  command,  and  they  plcnte- 
ously  bedewed  this  memorial.  It  was  returned  with  the 
promise  that  she  would  put  forth  every  effort  in  their  be- 
half, and  the  advice  that  they  would  use  all  caution  and 
avoid  meeting  for  worship  too  publicly  or  in  too  large  num- 
bers. The  admiral  was  requested  to  procure  her  a  conference 
with  the  more  discreet  of  the  ministers  of  Paris,  and  named 
the  day  of  the  king's  coronation  at  Rheims  as  one  when  it 
would  attract  less  public  attention.  On  the  day  one  pastor 
was  admitted  to  an  audience,  but  with  this  the  matter  ended. 

Was  this  pastor  Antony  Chandieu  ?  Had  he  gone  with 
Coligny  to  Rheims  in  September?  Two  weeks  later  Calvin 
thus  refers  to  Chandieu  :  "  Madame  de  Rove,  mother-in-law 
of  the  Prince  of  Conde,  had  obtained  of  the  queen-mother 
that  one  of  tlie  ministers  of  the  church  of  Paris  should  be 
admitted  to  an  interview.  After  being  sent  for,  he  is  dis- 
missed with  mockery.  Meanwhile  all  things  arc  tending 
to  a  horrible  butchery,  because  the  disciples  of  Christ,  who 
have  held  secret  assemblies,  are  denounced  by  apostates. 
The  thing  is  passing  sad."* 

Thenceforth  the  love  of  power  absorbed  all  else  in  the 
soul  of  Catherine.  Any  expedient  to  ward  off  a  difficulty 
Avas  adopted.  She  loved  no  one,  unless  it  was  her  third  son, 
the  Duke  of  Anjou,  "  the  most  worthless  of  a  worthless 
family,"  and  her  daughter  Elizabeth,  just  made  queen  of 
*  Calvin's  Letters,  dxlvi.,  4th  Oet.,  1559. 


THE   GUISES    IN    POWER,  147 

Spain.  The  other  two  children  were  regarded  as  mere 
tools,  and  one  of  them  gave  his  view  of  her  character  when 
he  said  that  the  loss  of  a  spaniel  grieved  her  more  than  the 
suffering  of  a  son.  AVlicn  she  addressed  one  of  her  ladies 
as  "  my  friend,"  the  attendant  looked  terrified.  "  Why  are 
you  alarmed?"  asked  Catherine.  "  I  have  always  noticed, 
madame,"  was  the  honest  reply,  "  that  whomsoever  you  hate, 
you  call  'friend,'  and  never  stop  till  you  have  destroyed." 
The  queen  was  greatly  amused  at  the  remark.  It  was  to  her 
a  compliment.     To  us  it  reveals  the  depth  of  Italian  j)erfidy. 

Meanwhile,  I)u  Bourg  was  kept  in  prison.  The  account 
of  his  trial  would  fill  a  goodly  volume.  Enough  for  our 
purpose  that  he  stood  firm  in  the  faith.  The  celebrated 
INIerillac  was  his  counsel.  Knowing  that  unless  he  showed 
some  sign  of  yielding,  his  case  was  desperate,  the  advocate 
drew  up  a  confession  of  faith  in  such  ambiguous  terms  that 
the  prisoner  and  the  judges  could  agree  to  it.  Then  j)er- 
suading  his  client  to  promise  that  he  would  remain  silent 
and  let  his  counsel  manage  his  cause,  Merillac  began  his 
j)k'a.  He  pointed  out  the  illustrious  birth  of  the  accused, 
his  great  acquirements,  his  rare  modesty,  his  primitive  vir- 
tues and  his  excellence  as  a  magistrate,  and  then  argued 
tiuit  all  the  process  was  illegal.  At  the  close  Du  Bourg  ex- 
pected to  hear  a  demand  for  his  release.  But  how  great 
was  his  astonishment ! 

"  I  admit,"  said  the  lawyer,  "  that  the  prisoner  expressed 
his  opinions  too  freely  in  the  royal  presence,  and  that  he  has 
l)een  deceived  by  religious  inij)ostors,  who  pretend  to  extra- 
ordinary purity.  But  the  delusion  has  passed  away  ;  he  ac- 
knowledges his  fault  and  throws  himself  on  the  mercy  of  the 
court."  He  then  made  a  private  sign  to  certain  judges 
known  to  be  favourable,  for  the  scheme  had  been  precon- 
certed with  them  ;  the  court  rose,  and  Du  Bourg  had  no  op- 
j)ortunity  of  addressing  it.     He  was  sent  back  to  his  cell. 


148  ADMIRAL    COTJGNY. 

This  stratagem  would  liave  saved  his  life  if  his  noble 
spirit  could  have  brooked  such  deceit.  Calling  for  pen  and 
paper,  he  sat  down  in  his  prison  and  wrote  a  disavowal  of 
the  counsel's  statements  concerning  his  repentance.  He 
sent  it  to  parliament.  He  then  wrote  a  circular  letter  to 
the  Reformed  churches,  in  order  to  prevent  them  from  sup- 
posing that  he  shrank  from  the  fiery  trial  that  awaited 
him.  "  Had  I  consulted  my  own  feelings,"  he  wrote,  "  I 
would  long  have  been  at  rest  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
crown  of  martyrdom  ;  but  I  owe  it  to  my  brethren,  to  my 
faith  and  to  my  God  to  seek  as  long  a  time  to  live  as  possi- 
ble, so  that  I  may  publish  abroad  the  doctrines  which  I 
believe." 

Coligny  and  his  friends  again  appealed  to  Catherine  in 
behalf  of  Du  Bourg.  They  stated  that  her  advice  to  them 
had  been  followed ;  that  they  had  not  held  their  meetings 
publicly,  and  still  they  were  persecuted.  For  themselves, 
they  would  promise  obedience,  but  there  was  a  large  body 
of  men,  not  all  of  them  Keformed,  who  would  resort  to  ex- 
treme measures  if  this  nefarious  process  continued. 

"Do  they  menace  me?"  exclaimed  the  queen-mother; 
"  Do  they  think  to  make  me  fear  ?  Patience !  patience ! 
matters  have  not  yet  come  to  such  a  point  as  they  imagine." 
The  admiral  and  Madame  de  Roye  calmed  her  anger.  She 
then  said,  "  You  take  too  much  for  granted ;  you  suppose 
that  I  approve  of  your  doctrines." 

"  Rather,  we  suppose  that  you  pity  those  who  must  suffer 
for  them,"  answered  Coligny. 

"  What  enlisted  my  sympathy  for  the  sufferers  was  my 
woman's  compassion,  rather  than  a  desire  to  be  informed 
whether  their  teachings  were  true  or  false." 

"  Compassion  should  spare  even  the  erring  from  undue 
severity,"  was  the  plea  of  Coligny;  "and  how  much  more 
should  it  spare  those  who  are  sincere  iu  their  belief,  and 


THE   OUISKS   IN   POWER.  149 

whose  faith  proinjjls  them  in  all  their  foiiiluct."  Abmit 
this  time  the  admiral  i)reseiited  her  with  a  written  confes- 
sion of  faith,  that  she  might  learn  the  (loctriiics  of  the  Ke- 
fornied.  She  was  too  busily  engaged  in  balancing  parties, 
and  so  dividing  the  rival  houses  that  she  might  reign,  to 
study  new  opinions  or  keep  old  promises.  If  she  had  the 
least  thought  of  a  kind  policy  toward  the  Protestants,  it 
was  set  at  naught  l)y  the  Guises,  whom  she  felt  obliged  to 
conciliate. 

Songs  were  heard  from  the  windows  of  tlie  Bastille,  but 
710  crowd  was  permitted  to  gather  there  and  listen  to  Du 
Bourg,  who  sang  them  with  fervour  in  order  to  ))roclaim 
the  gospel.  One  hymn  is  attributed  to  him,  for  he  was  a 
poet,  beginning — 

"()  jicojile,  linw  liave  yo  tlic  lioart 
To  wage  a  war  against  tlio  Lord?" 

An  attempt  was  made;  by  his  friends  to  secure  his  escape, 
but  he  was  not  inclined  to  emi)loy  crafty  means.  This  plan 
was  diseovered  by  an  accident;  he  must  suffer  the  penalty. 
An  iron  cage  was  brought,  and  he  was  enclosed  in  it.  And 
still  he  played  his  lute  and  sang  Psalms.  The  Cardinal 
of  Lorraine  declared  that  he  must  be  condemned,  and 
therefore  justice  was  impossible.  The  trial  was  a  mockery; 
he  was  sentenced  to  be  speedily  executed.  He  listened  to 
his  condemnation  without  one  sign  of  fear.  Calvin  relates 
tliat  "  he  knelt  down  and  thanked  God  that  he  w;is  deemed 
worthy  of  so  great  an  honour  as  to  die  in  defence  of 
eternal  truth."  He  prayed  that  God  would  pardon  his 
judges,  and  then  rising,  he  addressed  the  court,  saying, 
'■  (^uencli  at  length  the  fires  you  have  kindled,  and  turn 
uiilo  God  with  a  penitent  heart,  that  your  sins  may  be  for- 
given. .  .  .  For  you,  my  brother  councillors,  farewell  and 
prosper!  For  myself,  I  go  cheerfully  to  death.  Happen 
13  » 


150  ADMIRAL   COLTGXY. 

what  will,  I  am  a  Christian;  yes,  I  am  a  Christian,  and 
still  louder  will  I  shout  it,  dying  lor  the  glory  of  my  Lord 
Jesus  Chri.st!" 

For  f(jur  hours  he  awaited  the  coming  of  the  officer  to 
lead  him  to  the  Greve.  In  order  to  prevent  an  uprising  of 
the  people,  armed  men  were  placed  on  the  corners  of  the 
streets,  and  fagots  were  piled  up  in  various  places,  so  that 
none  might  know  where  he  was  to  be  burned.  "When  he 
came  to  the  })lace  of  execution,  though  surrounded  by  four 
hundred  guards,  he  was  observed  to  pull  off  his  cloak  and 
his  coat,  as  if  he  were  willingly  retiring  to  sleep."  He  was 
offered  a  crucifix,  but  he  rejected  it,  for  his  mind  was  fixed 
upon  the  true  cross  of  Christ.  The  last  words  heard  from 
his  lips  were :  "  Father,  forsake  me  not,  that  I  may  not  for- 
sake thee."  He  was  then  strangled  and  his  body  burned. 
It  was  the  twenty-third  of  December. 

Among  the  students  then  in  Paris  was  young  Florimond 
de  Remond,  who  afterward  wrote  a  chronicle  of  his  times. 
Rigid  papist  as  he  was,  he  said  of  Du  Bourg  that  every  one 
in  the  colleges  was  moved  to  tears;  they  pleaded  his  cause 
after  his  death ;  and  that  this  execution  did  more  harm  to 
the  papists  than  a  hundred  ministers  could  have  done  with 
all  their  preaching.  Mezeray,  a  Catholic  historian,  de- 
clares that  "  his  execution  inspired  many  persons  with  the 
conviction  that  the  belief  professed  by  so  good  and  so  en- 
lightened a  man  could  not  be  evil."  De  Thou,  an  author 
of  the  same  creed,  asserts  that  his  death  so  embittered  and 
so  confirmed  the  Protestants  that  "  from  his  ashes  sprang 
that  rank  growth  of  revolts  and  conspiracies  which  long 
and  heavily  overran  this  once  flourishing  kingdom." 

Pastor  Chandieu  saw  the  philosophy  of  this  fact :  "  Most 
people  like  what  they  see  hated  so  extremely.  Tiiey  think 
themselves  fortunate  in  knowing  what  leads  others  to  the 
gibbet,  and  return  home  from  the  public  places  edified  by 


THE   GUISES    IN    POWKII.  151 

the  constancy  of  those  whom  they  have  reduced  to  aslies." 
But  as  means  of  conversion  such  scenes  were  not  very  effi- 
cacious, or  the  wliole  land  must  have  soon  become  Protest- 
ant. Hundreds  were  only  maddened  by  the  sight  of  fire 
and  blood. 

The  fellow-councillors*  of  Du  Bourg,  arrested  with  liim, 
were  punished  more  lightly  and  released.  Meanwhile,  a 
strict  search  was  made  for  heretics ;  houses  were  entered, 
plundered,  and  the  dwellers  exposed  to  every  outrage. 
Images  of  the  Virgin  Mary  were  set  up  at  the  street- 
corners  ;  those  who  did  not  tip  the  hat  to  them  were  in- 
sulted, and  many  of  them  flung  into  prison,  banished  and 
l)ut  to  death. t  The  Protestants  had  their  patience  worn 
out ;  they  saw  that  it  was  worse  than  useless  to  attempt 
secresy ;  they  resumed  their  former  boldness  and  met  more 
publicly  ;  some  of  them  took  the  pen  and  published  cutting 
sarcasms  upon  the  Guises  and  their  obedient  servants. 

The  Guises  had  set  up  their  engine  of  destruction,  and 
used  the  king  and  cabinet  to  work  it.  Edicts  were  pro- 
claimed that  every  house  proved  to  luive  luirbouri'd  an  as- 
sembly of  Protestants  should  be  razed  to  the  ground,  and 
"whosoever  shall  be  present  at  a  |)rivate  meeting  shall  be 
sentenced  to  death,  without  hope  of  panlon  or  pity."  A  man 
named  De  Moucharcs  impressed  his  infamy  upon  tlie  very 

*  Some  wit  of  tlie  time  wove  tlie  immes  of  tiio  councillors  into 
til  is  couplet : 

P:ir  Foix,  I)e  Li  Porte,  T>ii  Faiir, 
J'appcryoi  Du  IJourg,  La  Fiuuce. 

— Memoires  de  Conde. 
t  The  laborious  Calvin  gave  an  accomit  of  the  execution  of  Du 
Bourg,  adding:  "Half  a  month  lias  elapsed  siiu>e  liis  death.  Manv 
otiiers  since  that  time  have  been  burnf.  Every  nutmcnt  new  terroi-s 
are  heaped  njion  us.  I  wish  fifim  these  examples  we  may  learn  what 
is  the  life  of  man  u]ion  earth  ;  that  I  may  especially,  whose  dulness 
cannot  be  too  much  aroused." — Ldtcr  to  Bhtunr. 


152  ADMIRAL   COLIC  NY. 

language,  so  that  moiichard  is  the  term  for  a  police-spy. 
Acting  as  a  detective,  he  controlled  a  band  of  ,«ecret  spies 
and  informers,  Avho  went  everywhere,  di-agged  innocent  men 
and  women  before  the  unjust  judges,  charged  them  with  the 
basest  villainies,  extorted  money  from  them  and  sent  them 
to  the  stake.  "  From  August  to  March  there  was  nothing 
but  arrests  and  imprisonments,  the  sacking  of  houses,  the 
outlawry  of  those  suspected  and  the  cruel  torment  of  those 
condemned."*  INtany  sold  their  goods  and  fled  to  the  pro- 
vinces or  to  other  lands.  "  The  poor  became  rich,  the  rich 
poor."  The  only  fault  of  many  was  tlieir  wealth,  and  there 
■were  plenty  to  seize  it.  Jealous  neighbours  fleeced  or  drove 
away  those  whom  they  envied  ;  and  as  the  most  wicked  luid 
the  power  in  their  own  hands,  lynch  law  reigned  night  and 
day. 

"Poor  little  children  [of  the  martyrs],"  says  Beza,  "who 
had  no  bed  but  the  flagstones,  went  crying  piteously  through 
the  streets,  yet  no  one  dared  to  relieve  their  hunger  or  give 
them  shelter  for  fear  of  being  accused  of  heresy  ;  they  were 
less  cared  for  than  the  dogs."  This  pictures  the  teri'or,  but 
what  a  proof  of  the  barbarity  of  the  persecutors  was  seen 
when  other  little  children  dipped  their  hands  in  the  martyr's 
blood  and  boasted  what  they  would  do !  Crosses  and 
images  were  set  up  in  the  streets,  with  tapers  burning 
before  them,  and  around  them  a  noisy  crowd  singing  and 
praying,  thus  reminding  one  of  the  idolatries  exacted  by 
Nebuchadnezzar  in  the  heathen  days.  If  any  one  failed  to 
tip  his  hat  or  drop  money  into  the  alms-boxes,  some  wretch 
shouted  "  heretic,"  and  the  mob  had  their  diversion.  To 
call  one  a  "  Lutheran"  was  to  brand  him  for  the  slaughter. 
One  man  was  hanged,  while  a  thief  was  set  free.  Every 
Barabbas  had  a  chance  for  liberty  if  he  only  cursed  the 
hei-etics.     "  Death  was  made  a  carnival." 

*  La  Planclie  (or  De  Serres),  Hist.  Etat  de  France  sous  Fi-ancois  II. 


THE    GUISES    IN    IHtWEIJ.  1  .>3 

From  his  watch-tower  amid  the  Alp.*,  Calvin  looked 
al)roail  over  France,  saw  the  clash  which  j)rec('ded  a  storm 
and  in  great  sorrow  thus  wrote :  "  I'nless  God  ])rovide  a 
remedy  in  time,  there  will  he  no  end  to  the  eflTiision  of  hlorxl. 
A  much  greater  numher  of  men  has  been  cast  into  fetters 
than  during  the  two  preceding  years.  ...  In  Provence  the 
brethren,  attacked  by  private  individuals  with  the  sword 
and  outrage,  have  begun  to  defend  tliemselves.  Hitherto 
they  have  had  the  upper  hand,  and  have  slain  but  few, 
though  they  might  have  exterminated  all  to  a  man.  "NVe 
have  till  now  kept  back  the  Normans,  but  it  is  greatly  to 
be  feared  that,  if  they  be  excessively  provoked,  they  Avill 
i*ush  to  arms.  God,  then,  is  to  be  entreated  that  of  his 
admirable  goodness  and  wisdom  he  would  calm  all.  these 
troubled  billows." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A    CHIEFTAIN    WAyXED. 
(1550.) 

THE  old  town  of  Conde,  near  Belgium,  and  noted  for 
its  ancient  military  strength,  gave  title  to  a  young 
prince  of  the  blood,  who  won  for  himself  a  brilliant  repu- 
tation as  a  military  hero.  He  was  Louis  de  Bourbon,  born 
1530,  at  Vendome.  Schooled  in  war  from  his  youth,  he 
became  bold,  hardy  and  adventurous.  He  was  not  to  be 
judged  by  his  outward  appearance,  nor  by  his  air  of  care- 
lessness and  frivolity,  for  beneath  the  surface  was  an  ardent, 
lofty  and  indomitable  spirit.  Small  and  slender,  yet  strong 
and  active,  lively  and  erring,  yet  often  serious,  his  whole 
life  was  one  brave  struggle  with  narrow  circumstances  and 
with  ceaseless  opposition.  Yet  few  men  had  a  wider  circle 
of  friends.  With  qualities  truly  loyal,  generous  even  to  an 
enemy,  winning  and  easy  to  be  won,  indeed  often  too  caress- 
ing, sincere,  affable,  eloquent,  he  had  a  sort  of  popularity 
which  ran  in  fireside  stories  and  songs  of  the  street.*  He 
had  also  great  faults  enough  to  mar  one  of  the  finest  for- 
tunes ever  committed  to  a  man  and  blast  the  happiness  of 
one  of  the  truest  wives.  Bound  as  he  was  to  Coligny  ia 
the  grand  Huguenot  cause,  we  need  to  know  him  when  he 
shall  so  often  move  along  our  path. 

Among  the   noble  women  of  the  French  Reform  was 
Madeline,  tlie  Countess  of  Rove,  the  half-sister  of  Coligny. 

*  Perau,  Vie  de  Louis  de  Bourbon;  MM     Haag,  La   France  Pro- 
testante;  Lacratelle;  Thuauus. 
154 


A   CHIEFTAIN    WANTKD.  155 

Her  pious  mother's  lessons  and  example  were  not  lost. 
She  avowed  herself  a  Protestant  along  with  her  warlike 
brothers,  corresponded  with  Calvin,  braved  the  contempt 
of  a  court  where  Diana  reigned,  and  rendered  efficient  aid 
to  the  church  of  Paris.  Her  position  was  yet  to  be  of 
greater  importance  to  the  chiefs  of  the  Keform.  One  of 
her  daughters — Charlotte — became  the  wife  of  the  Count 
Kochefoucault ;  Eleanor  heard  the  name  of  Conde  with  no 
little  interest.  In  1551  she  married  liim.  There  was  some 
force  in  the  motive,  urged  by  her  relatives,  of  uniting  more 
lirmly  the  houses  of  Chatillon  and  Bourbon  against  the 
Lorraines.  The  Jesuit  Maimbourg  says  that  "sha  and  her 
mother  were  women  of  much  spirit,  affection  and  virtue, 
but  were  two  of  the  most  ardent  and  determined  Hugue- 
nots of  their  time."* 

The  Prince  of  Conde — one  of  the  heroes  of  Saint 
Quentin  and  Calais — had  reason  to  expect  some  favours 
from  the  young  King  Francis.  His  heart  sank  within  him 
when  he  appealed  in  vain  to  his  brother  Antony  to  assert 
his  claim  to  the  regency.  His  next  resource  was  the  influ- 
ence of  Coligny  with  the  queen-mother.  But  here  he  was 
checked  by  the  (Juises.  However,  to  get  rid  of  him,  they 
sent  him  on  a  mission  to  obtain  the  signature  of  Philip  to 
the  last  treaty.  "What  outfit?"  Vain  question  for  a 
prince  who  was  too  poor  to  ap])ear  in  dignity  before  the 
monarch  of  the  widest  realm  in  Christendom.  Perhaps  the 
Colignys  supplied  the  funds. 

The  Guises  next  sought  to  embroil  Conde  and  Coligny, 
by  saying  to  the  latter,  "  Do  you  know  that  our  Bourbon 
cousin  has  applied  for  the  government  of  Picardy?  He 
wants  to  get  it  away  from  you."  Coligny  was  surprised, 
but  his  reply  was  generous :  "  I  am  ready  to  resign  the  office 
in  his  favour."  Half  suspicious  of  a  trick,  he  did  not  re- 
*  Histohe  du  (."alviiiisme.     De  Tliou  gives  tlicra  liigli  praise. 


156  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

sign  until  he  had  seen  Conde,  who  had  never  made  any- 
such  application.  It  was  a  specimen  of  Guisean  strategy. 
The  admiral  resigned,  but  Conde  was  cheated;  the  office 
was  given  to  Brissac.  Another  scheme  was  to  expose 
Coligny  to  a  storm  of  Montmorency's  wrath,  but  the  old 
man  poured  forth  his  fire  against  the  duke  and  cardinal. 
Such  attempts  only  united  the  opposition.  They  were  also 
intended  to  remove  from  the  court  all  the  princes  and 
nobles  of  true  French  blood,  and  secure  the  kingdom  to 
such  "foreigners"*  as  the  Guises  and  Catherine.  Is  it  to 
be  wondered  that  there  were  murmurs  among  the  people? 
Is  it  strange  that  the  Protestant  nobles  began  to  whisper 
of  some  mode  of  redress  ?  If  France  could  have  acted  in- 
dependently, she  might  have  accepted  the  Reform,  which 
sprung  up  on  her  own  soil,  and  was  watered  by  her  sons  at 
Geneva.  The  fierce  enemy  of  the  Reformation  was  no 
longer  the  Sorbonne,  nor  the  parliament,  nor  the  king ; 
these  had  done  their  worst,  and  were  overshadowed  by 
other  forces.  The  most  powerful  foe  was  of  foreign  birth 
and  importation,  thrust  upon  her  when  a  Medici  and  the 
Guises  gained  full  control  over  the  Church  and  the  State. 

The  Prince  of  Conde  champed  the  bit  with  which  the 
Guises  would  curb  him  or  drive  him  as  they  chose.  He 
hated  "  the  foreigners,"  in  his  loyal  love  for  France.  He 
had  dreams  of  rousing  the  nobility,  rescuing  the  young 
king  from  the  strangers  and  restoring  the  true  French 
monarchy,  "  God's  time  is  often  slow,"  said  Coligny,  whom 
he  loved  as  an  uncle,  *'  but  is  always  sure  and  safe ;  it  will 
be  our  time." 

"  God's  time  to  do  us  most  good,"  added  Madame  de 

*  Etrangers,  in  the  French  histories;  homines  pcre^jrinon,  in  De 
Thon.  Tlie  people  of  that  day  understood  the  expression  in  one  of 
the  printed  broadsides,  "  Voicy  les  estrangers  a  nos  portes." — Me- 
moir es  de  Conde. 


A    CHIEFTAIN    WANTED.  157 

Royo,  "  is  our  day  of  adversity.  It  was  so  with  the  admiral 
and  his  brother  Andelot." 

"  lu  prison  !  Was  that  all  they  endured?"  replied  Conde, 
with  his  usual  air  of  gayety,  hoping  to  ward  off  the  religious 
appeal.  "  A  dungeon  is  nothing  to  my  disgrace.  Yet  I 
suppose  that  if  they  sang  for  joy  in  their  prisons,  I  ought 
to  shout  for  glory,  since*  my  case  is  more  desperate  than 
theirs."  He  felt  that  he  was  ruined.  His  friends  urged 
him  to  avow  himself  a  Protestant. 

It  does  not  appear  that  he  gave  his  thoughts  to  the  Bible 
or  his  heart  to  God.  He  was  not  seeking  a  principle  of 
life,  but  a  policy  of  action.  Chafed  by  various  affronts, 
hopeless  of  success  in  gaining  an  appointment  from  the 
king  and  council,  ambitious  of  the  honours-  of  a  public 
career  and  cherishing  a  revenge  toward  the  party  in  power, 
he  saw  but  one  remedy  for  the  evils  under  which  he 
groaned.  He  saw  that  fully  half  the  nobles  were  inclined 
to  Protestantism.  Why  might  they  not  combine  and  effect 
a  change  in  the  government?  From  Brest  to  Metz,  from 
Bayonne  to  Boulogne,  the  realm  was  alive  with  converts  to 
the  new  doctrines.  Among  them  were  men  trained  to  en- 
dure hardship,  fearless  of  danger,  zealous  for  their  rights 
and  their  religion,  bound  by  strong  ties  to  each  other,  and 
in  correspondence  with  the  Swiss  Reformers  and  the  Ger- 
man princes.  Give  them  a  chieftain,  and  they  seemed 
ready  to  pledge  their  faith,  unite  their  forces  and  to  de- 
mand their  rights  and  their  liberties,  or  lose  all  in  the  effort 
to  extort  them.  A  leader  was  wanted.  Antony  of  Navarre 
had  proved  unworthy  of  so  great  a  trust. 

Coligny  was  the  proper  man.  Ho  would  avoid  war,  and 
command  a  moral  force  whiclx  the  Guisards  must  respect, 
if  they  did  not  give  way  before  it.  But  Coligny  was  not 
ainl)iti()us  for  such  a  hcadsliip.  Condu  wjis  put  fDrward, 
and  he  decided  upon  his  course.     He  changed  his  religion 

Vol.  I.— U 


158  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

•with  a  rapidity  peculiar  to  all  his  movements.  He  was 
asked  by  his  friends  to  name  a  place  for  the  chiefs  to  meet 
him  in  conference. 

"  Let  it  be  Vendome,"  he  replied.  My  new  life  may  well 
begin  at  my  birth-place.  It  is  a  good  old  town,  full  of 
Protestants.  In  my  childhood  they  almost  won  me  by 
talking  of  the  great  Queen  Mafi'garet  of  Navarre.  We 
shall  be  well  housed  and  safe  in  our  deliberations.  An  es- 
cort is  to  meet  my  brother,  the  King  of  Navarre,  at  that 
place.  Under  that  j^retext  we  can  assemble,  and  if  we 
spend  three  or  four  days  in  getting  Antony  ready  for  an 
appearance  at  court,  who  need  be  troubled  about  it?"  Thus 
in  order  to  avoid  suspicion  all  was  arranged  by  the  favourite 
prince,  of  whom  the  later  song  ran  : 

The  little  man  so  handsome, 
Who  always  talks  and  alwa3's  smiles, 
And  wins  all  whom  he  will,  the  whiles — 
God  keep  from  harm  the  little  man. 

"  They  are  going  to  bring  up  the  King  of  Navarre,"  said 
the  people  along  the  ways  as.  goodly  companies  passed 
through  the  towns,  and  that  was  a;ll  they  knew  about  it. 
The  king  took  courage  when  he  saw  in  the  proposed  escort 
Chartres,  Porcian,  Rochefoucauld,  the  secretary  of  Mont- 
morency, and  the  three  Colignys ;  for  Cardinal  Odet  had 
cast  his  lot  with  the  Reformed.  Antony  might  well  have 
coveted  the  whole  of  them  to  make  a  parliament  for 
Navarre.  He  was  greeted  with  enthusiasm,  both  by  the 
nobles  and  the  people.  The  conference  began.  Coligny 
had  brought  discouraging  news  from  Paris  to  this  effect : 
"  The  Guises  now  defy  their  rivals  and  their  enemies.  The 
Spanish  ambassador  insisted  that  the  King  of  Navarre  be 
forbidden  to  approach  the  capital.  If  not,  Philip  would 
make  war  upon  Navarre — " 


A    CHIEFTAIN    -WANTED.  159 

"Is  there  such  a  miuidaU'y"  iiKiuired  the  friglitcned 
Antony.  "Dare  such  a  mandate  be  j)ubli.shed?"  exclaimed 
his  brother.  "  Will  Frenchmen  endure  such  insolence  and 
injustice?     Let  us  rise  in  our  might — " 

"  You  have  not  heard  me  through,"  said  the  admiral, 
whose  usual  slowness  of  speech  had  contributed  to  the  alarm, 
"(^'athcrine  has  j)revented  such  an  outrage.  It  will  be  our 
privilege  to  attend  the  King  of  Navarre  to  the  capital." 

"And  what  then?"  asked  Cond{!>,  his  eyes  flashing  as 
they  met  those  of  the  discontented  nobles.  "  Who  will 
grant  us  our  rights  ?  The  young  King  Francis  has  chosen 
his  ministers  of  state  without  convening  the  states-general — 
rather  they  have  usurped  the  power;  and  now  we  have  but 
one  course  left:  we  must  take  up  arms  and  drive  these 
foreigners  from  the  court." 

"Agreed,"  said  Andelot,  "and  that  speedily.  Every 
hour  of  delay  is  golden  to  our  enemies."  To  this  view 
several  other  nobles  assented. 

"  I  must  oppose  all  warlike  efforts,"  said  the  deliberate 
admiral.  "  What  positive  claim  have  the  princes  of  the 
blood  to  a  regency  ?  Young  as  the  king  is,  he  is  of  the 
legal  age  to  choose  for  himself,  and  he  has  the  right  to 
select  his  uncles  as  his  ministers.  This  we  must  grant. 
Peace  will  gain  more  than  war.  If  we  show  a  strong  union 
among  ourselves,  and  if  some  of  us  who  have  the  ear  of 
Catherine  will  use  our  influence,  the  Guises  may  be  induced 
to  act  with  moderation  and  to  grant  to  the  princes  some 
degree  of  their  just  authority." 

"Let  us  avoid  war,"  echoed  the  time-serving  Antony. 
"  I  will  go  to  the  capital  and  demand  liberty  of  conscience 
for  the  Protestants.  This  will  give  us  a  power  which  our 
enemies  will  dread  ;  for  the  despised  Protestants  will  come 
forth  from  their  hiding-places  and  astound  the  world  by 
their  numbers  and  their  united  strength." 


IGO  ad:mtrat,  coi.tcjxy. 

The  wiser  counsels  of  the  admiral  prevailed.  The  con- 
ference adjourned,  to  be  renewed  at  the  call  of  the  Prince 
of  Conde.  By  s1o\a'  journeys  Antony  was  escorted  to  Paris. 
But  there  he  must  bear  the  insult  of  not  being  expected. 
The  court  had  gone  to  the  chateau  of  Saint  Germain,  five 
leagues  from  Paris.  He  sent  thither  a  chamberlain  to  give 
notice  of  his  arrival,  and  to  prepare  for  his  use  the  rooms 
which  he  usually  occupied  in  that  palace.  Here  was  a 
second  insult:  the  Duke  of  Guise  lodged  in  those  apart- 
ments, and  refused  to  vacate  them.  The  chamberlain  was 
closely  examined  by  the  Guises  in  regard  to  the  design  of 
his  master's  visit  and  the  number  of  his  suite.  Then  the 
imperious  cardinal  exclaimed :  "  Tell  your  master  that  it 
will  cost  him  his  life  and  that  of  some  ten  thousand  men, 
before  he  deprives  us  of  the  place  which  he  seeks  and  of 
the  apartments  assigned  to  us  here  by  the  good  favour  of 
the  king." 

This  threat  of  war  might  have  been  taken  by  Cond^  as  a 
challenge,  but  Coligny  thought  it  wisest  to  ignore  it.  The 
princely  train  set  out  for  the  palace.  Quaintly  reads  the 
old  chronicle :  "  The  kings  of  France,  in  their  greatness, 
have  this  custom,  that  when  they  wish  to  favour  any  prince 
or  great  lord,  and  know  the  hour  they  are  expected,  the 
king  goes  courteously  to  meet  them,  under  pretence  of 
hunting  that  way ;  and  so  comes  upon  them  by  accident, 
as  it  were,  which  is  esteemed  a  great  honour.  Then,  before 
all  the  court,  the  king  returns  with  them,  engaged  in  loving 
conversation.  But  nothing  of  this  sort  was  done  for  the 
King  of  Xavarre.  The  Duke  of  Guise  took  care  to  lead 
the  hunt  in  quite  a  contrary  direction  ;  and  so  the  King  of 
Navarre  arrived  at  the  chateau  without  the  slightest  notice 
from  all  the  courtiers.  And  he  found  his  lodging  so  little 
prepared  that  all  his  trunks  and  boxes  were  scattered  about 
the  courtyard.     Having  dismounted,  he  went  straight  to 


A    CIIIKFTAIN    WANTED.  101 

the  qucen-nu)thc'r,  with  whom  was  tlie  Cardinal  of  Lor- 
raine, who  moved  not  one  step  to  meet  him  or  greet  him  ; 
and  when  he  had  made  his  respects  to  the  queen,  he  (the 
cardinal)  looked  at  him  in  the  most  haughty  fashion  ;  at 
which  people  were  astonished."  The  king  and  the  duke 
returned  to  heap  still  further  insults  upon  poor  Antony. 

The  distressed  King  of  Navarre  at  last  found  a  friend 
with  a  good  memory.  Two  years  before  he  was  in  Paris, 
when  the  wife  of  the  Marshal  8t.  Andr6  came  to  him  en- 
treating his  aid  in  releasing  one  of  her  retainers  from  prison, 
into  which  he  had  been  thrown  for  heresy.  King  Henry 
was  absent  at  Amiens.  Antony  assumed  a  royal  authority 
and  set  the  prisoner  at  liberty,  at  the  risk  of  offending  Henry, 
who  afterward  calmed  his  rage,  forgave  the  fault  and  said, 
"  You  will  do  well,  Sire,  in  future  to  remember  the  rank 
you  hold  in  France."  He  now  had  it  forced  on  his  mind, 
but  St.  Andr6  had  not  forgotten  him.  His  wife,  probably, 
suggested  it,  and  he  offered  to  the  shelterless  king  his  own 
apartments.  Antony  accepted  the  offer ;  it  was  coming  down 
from  royalty,  but  still  it  was  securing  comfort.  The  Guises 
were  not  yet  satisfied.  They  excluded  the  royal  visitor 
from  the  council  board  ;  and  after  loading  him  with  dis- 
graces, they  persuaded  him  to  say  to  King  Francis  that  he 
had  wisely  chosen  his  ministers,  and  they  had  wisely  begun 
their  administration.  His  rivals  had  first  cheated,  then 
charmed  liim.  His  friends  were  disgusted  and  looked  to 
liiiu  no  more  as  a  leader.  He  must  have  some  toy  to  please 
him  ;  he  was,  therefore,  sent  to  conduct  Philip's  unseen 
bride  to  Spain — an  afl'air  which  was  so  managed  that  it  only 
added  to  his  disgrace.  At  the  borders  he  gave  Elizabeth 
over  to  the  Spanish  escort,  and  returned  to  Navarre,  desjjised 
by  his  foes  and  deserted  by  his  friends. 

The  Prince  of  Cond6  summoned  another  conference  at 
La  Fert(?,  a  town  on  his  estate  in  ('liampagne.     The  Pro- 


162  ABMIKAL    COLTGXY. 

testaiit  nobles  camo ;  iiiany  of  tlie  Reformed  churches  sent 
their  deputies.  The  question  was  ■whether  they  slioukl  take 
up  arms  ?  The  prince  urged  it  as  a  necessity  for  their  self- 
defence.  "Wc  have  lost  time  already,"  said  he.  "Why 
did  we  hesitate  at  Vendome  ?  you  were  checked — and  must 
I  say  it? — the  curb  was  applied  by  my  great  and  good 
friend,  who  advised  moderation,  when  a  bold  stroke  was  our 
only  safe  jwlicy.  Will  he  again  speak  sweet  words  to  lull 
your  enslaved  spirits?" 

All  knew  who  was  meant,  all  waited  for  him  to  rise  when 
the  prince  sat  down.  Courteous  and  grandly  cool,  he  stood 
up  to  give  his  opinion.  It  would  be  of  great  worth,  for  the 
man  was  Coligny.  He  had  not  been  idle.  By  his  letters 
and  couriers  he  had  learned  the  state  of  the  Protestant 
churches.  He  knew  more  of  their  strength  than  any  man 
in  the  realm.  He  knew  what  sympathy  they  had  from  all 
other  malcontents.  AVhen  the  assembly  hung  upon  his 
voice,  he  thus  gave  his  opinion  : 

"  France  is  full  of  converts  to  the  new  doctrines.  They 
are  of  all  classes,  all  conditions.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that 
they  are  hunted  down  and  terribly  persecuted,  in  spite  of 
the  efforts  to  exterminate  them,  they  increase  from  day  to 
day,  in  the  provinces  as  well  as  in  the  capital.  While  the 
foe  rages  they  are  falling  into  despair  of  any  deliverance 
from  this  oppression.  They  look  to  their  chiefs,  who  are 
able  to  govern  them  and  secure  to  them  liberty  of  con- 
science. If  we  profit  by  their  disposition,  they  will  find  in  us 
the  staff"  on  which  they  may  lean,  and  we  shall  find  in  them 
the  material  for  a  party  indomitable.  As  one  man  will  the 
whole  ])halanx  be. 

"  Their  adversaries  are  our  own.  They  attribute  the  new 
and  fierce  edicts  to  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  and  the  Duke  of 
Guise.  No  doubt  they  cau  be  persuaded  to  offer  their  goods 
aud  lives  to  carry  ou  a  war.     They  lyay  send  you  legiona 


A    CHIEFTAIN    WANTKI).  1G3 

of . soldiers,  and  you  iiuiy  obtain  foreign  aid.  But  let  us  not 
make  our  ambition  tlie  motive  for  embroiling  the  kingdom 
in  strife.  Let  it  not  be  the  desire  to  have  a  part  in  the 
government  and  the  officers  of  state.  That  must  prove  our 
eternal  reproach.  If  we  undertake  a  war,  let  it  be  for  con- 
science, for  religion  and  for  God.  In  the  name  of  Jehovah 
we  will  lift  up  our  banners." 

"All  very  well,"  whispered  certain  political  aspirants — 
"very  beautiful — good  thing  to  have  a  conscience — and 
best  of  all  to  have  a  God  on  our  side.  But  on  the  basis 
of  religion  we  cannot  all  unite.  AVe  are  not  all  Protest- 
ants." 

"In  the  name  of  our  king  and  our  country,"  cried  some 
who  had  not  the  honest  boldness  of  Coligny,  and  yet  who 
accused  him  of  timidity,  "  let  us  rise.  Here  is  the  broail 
basis  of  union.  If  the  Guises  be  the  common  enemy,  all 
who  detest  their  tyranny  will  pour  out  treasure  and  blood 
in  rescuing  our  young  king  from  their  hands." 

"Yes,  a  war  for  the  king,  not  against  hin),"  shouteil 
Conde.  "That  is  the  word.  A  holy  crusade  ibr  his  deliv- 
erance; that  will  rally  the  hosts." 

"  No,"  said  Coligny,  "  that  is  but  a  war  to  dethrone 
the  Guises  and  put  yourselves  in  their  j)laces.  There  is 
ambition  in  it.  There  is  the  covetousness  for  office.  It  is 
political,  earthly,  selfish.  My  conscience  forbids  it.  If  it 
be  not  waged  for  my  country  or  my  religion,  I  must  retire 
to  my  home  and  i)ray  for  peace."  It  is  more  courageous  to 
fight  for  conscience  than  for  ])referment,  but  Coligny  seems 
to  have  stood  alone  in  his  sublime  position.*  He  was  not 
followed.  He  retired  to  Chatillon,  where  his  noble  wife 
threw  herself  at  his  feet,  imploring  him  to  ride  forth  with 
the  more  ambitious  chiefs  mid  break  the  oppressors'  arm. 
It  was  in  vain.  Conscience  was  nut  melted  by  tears. 
*  Tumulle  d'Amboise  (  Meiu.  de  Coiuk'J,  De  Tlioii,  Perau. 


164  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

The  assembled  nol:)]cs  at  La  Fert<5  drew  the  fine  distinc- 
tion between  a  war  for  tlie  king  and  a  war  against  him. 
In  tlie  one  case  the}'  would  be  loyal,  in  the  other  rebellious. 

They  declined  now  to  enter  upon  a  war  for  religion.  Yet 
they  claimed  theological  authority  for  taking  the  sword  to 
deliver  their  king  when  he  was  oppressed  l)y  his  ministry.* 
It  did  not  come  from  Geneva.  Still  they  hesitated,  shaken 
by  Coligny's  thrust  at  their  motives.  They  went  home  to 
think  and  wait  their  time. 

There  is  no  evidence  that  a  plot  was  laid  at  La  Ferte 
for  the  seizure  of  the  king,  yet  a  scheme  was  ripening  in 
the  mind  of  a  reckless  adventurer,  who  involved  Coligny 
in  trouble,  and  almost  brought  Conde  to  the  gibbet. 

The  arrogance  of  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  brought 
affairs  to  a  crisis.  He  abused  his  power  as  the  minister  of 
finance.  He  was  beset  with  demands  upon  the  almost 
empty  treasury.  Soldiers  asked  for  their  arrears  of  pay ; 
bankers  urged  that  their  accounts  should  be  settled.  The 
cardinal  lost  his  patience.  He  ordered  several  gibbets  to 
])e  raised  close  to  the  palace  of  Fontainebleau — some  have 
it  St.  Germain — and  there  proclaimed  that  all  captains, 
soldiers,  bankers  and  gentlemen  who  came  to  demand  their 
money  should  depart  from  the  court  in  twenty-four  hours,  on 
})ain  of  being  hanged  without  trial  or  delay.  As  most  of  the 
clainumts  were  men  of  rank,  the  French  nobility  took  fire 
at  this  insult,  and  talked  of  revenge.  Brantome  in  his  way 
tells  us,  "This  fine  proclamation,  and  the  discontent  thence 
arising,  together  with  the  pretext  of  religion,  mainly  con- 
tributed to  help  forward  the  conspiracy  of  Amboise." 
What  he  calls  the  "pretext  of  religion,"  was  really  the 

*  Apologie  Chretienne ;  one  of  the  many  tracts  issued  by  tlie  Pro- 
testants in  those  times,  and  wliich  fill  a  large  space  in  the  Memoires 
de  Cond(5.  An(|netil  says  that  the  Calvinists  took  up  arms  for  reli- 
gion ;  et  les  micoiitenli  seulemenl  conlre  les  Guises. 


A    (TIIErTArN    WANTED.  105 

deeply- rooted  intention  of  the  Protestants  ;ind  their  syni[)a- 
thizers  to  resist  an  intolerable  oppression. 

The  Guises  knew  that  they  were  forcing  their  opponents 
to  measures  of  self-defence.  They  ordered  the  guards  "  to 
wear  jackets  of  mail  and  pistols,"  but  they  forbade  all  gen- 
tlemen to  carry  arms,  and  even  to  wear  any  sort  of  garments 
in  which  weapons  might  easily  be  concealed.  Laws  which 
regulate  dress  must  always  be  offensive  to  a  people.  The 
long,  sleeveless  cloak  of  that  day  must  be  laid  aside.  The 
order  bore,  it  seems,  only  upon  the  Protestants,  and  they 
probably  went  on  wearing  what  they  pleased.  One  proof 
api)ears  in  the  rescue  of  seventeen  persons  who  had  been 
arrested  at  Blois"for  the  Word's  sake."  An  escort  was 
taking  them  to  Orleans,  when  sixty  armed  men  rode  down 
upon  them  and  set  all  the  prisoners  at  liberty. 

Whisjiers  of  a  plot  to  seize  the  young  king  and  rescue 
tlie  throne  from  "the  usurping  foreigners"  reached  Calvin. 
A  gentleman  of  military  rank  visited  him,  introduciug 
himself  as  Godfrey  du  Barry,  the  Sieur  de  la  Kenaudie, 
and  asking  him,  "Is  it  lawful  to  resist  the  tyrants  who  op- 
j)ress  the  people  of  God  ?" 

"It  is  not  lawful  to  emi)loy  arms  against  rulers;  there  is 
no  warrant  for  it  in  the  word  of  God,"  replied  Calvin, 
making  good  his  point  by  the  proofs.  "Even  if  there  were 
some  warrant  for  it,  your  measures  are  ill-devised,  pre- 
sumptuous and  certain  of  failure." 

"We  do  not  propose  to  shed  blood,"  said  the  captain, 
"but  to  rescue  our  king  and  establish  his  authority." 

"If  a  single  drop  of  blood  is  shed  in  such  an  attempt, 
floods  of  it  will  deluge  Europe ;  and  it  is  better  that  we 
should  perish  a  hundred  times  than  exj)ose  Christianity  to 
such  a  reproach.  Yet  a  distinction  might  be  made.  If 
the  princes  of  the  1)1o(k1  demand  to  be  maintained  in  their 
rights  for  the  common  good,  and  if  the  parliament  join 


1C)C)  ADMIRAL   COLTGNY. 

them  ill  their  claims,  theu,"  said  the  Kcformer,  "I  admit 
that  it  will  be  lawful  for  all  good  subjects  to  leud  them 
armed  assistance." 

The  visitor  took  courage.  Might  not  Calvin  concede  as 
much  as  certain  German  divines  ?  They  thought  that  the 
French  Protestants  might  lawfully  oppose  the  usurpation 
of  the  Guises  with  arms,  even,  if  but  one  of  the  princes 
were  at  their  head.  The  question  then  was,  "  Suppose  but 
one  of  the  princes  take  this  matter  in  hand,  may  we  not 
support  him?" 

"No,"  replied  Calvin,  most  emi^hatically.  "I  condemn 
all  your  proposals.  I  beg  of  you  to  abandon  all  such 
schemes."  Calvin  thought  that  the  man  took  his  advice  ; 
therefore  he  says :  "  I  did  not  breathe  a  syllable  on  the 
subject,  because  it  would  only  have  been  breeding  disturb- 
ances to  no  purpose."     Was  this  the  part  of  an  accomplice? 

Calvin  afterward  wrote  to  defend  himself  and  his  breth- 
ren :  "  When,  eight  months  ago,  these  designs  began  to 
be  agitated,  I  inter])0sed  my  authority  to  prevent  them 
from  proceeding  further — secretly  and  quietly,  it  is  true, 
because  I  feared,  if  any  report  about  the  affair  should 
reach  the  ears  of  the  enemy,  I  should  be  dragging  all  the 
godly  to  a  horrid  butchery.  I  fancied  that  all  violent 
movements  had  been  quashed,  and  even  quieted  down,  till 
an  individual  of  no  personal  merit  came  to  me  from  France, 
and  boasted  that  he  had  been  appointed  the  leader  of  the 
enterprise.  I  at  once  put  a  stop  to  his  bragging,  and  de- 
clared my  utter  abhorrence  of  his  conspiracy.  The  next 
day  this  needy  wretch,  who  was  hunting  in  all  directions 
for  booty,  that  he  might  catch  a  rich  friend  in  his  nets  and 
by  a  public  collection  scrape  together  a  good  round  sum 
of  money,  told  a  barefaced  lie,  declaring  that  I  did  not  dis- 
approve of  the  conspiracy,  but  that  1  refused  to  take  any 
public  part  iu  it,  to  avoid  odium," 


A  CI  1 1  HIT  A  I.N   uaxtj:i>.  1U7 

Tlii.s  man,  La  Kenaiulio,  was  a  gentleman  oi  Perigord. 
Able  and  active,  he  had  been  rendered  desperate  by  a  vex- 
atious lawsuit.  He  had  been  disgraced  and  punished  for 
the  crime  of  forgery,  of  which  lie  had,  probably,  not  been 
guilty.  He  had  been  released  from  prison  and  banished, 
and  on  his  way  from  France  he  had  met  with  some  one 
wlio  knew  the  secret  intentions  of  the  Prince  of  Conde. 
J I  is  brother-in-law  had  been  put  to  death  by  the  Duke  of 
(iiiisc,  who  hoped  to  silence  his  revenge  by  obtaining  for 
him  leave  to  return  to  his  native  country  and  have  his  law- 
suit reconsidered.  Intrepid,  enterprising,  smooth,  eloquent, 
insinuating  and  an  enthusiast,  he  had  the  qualities  for  a 
perfect  cons])irator. 

When  Calvin  learned  that  his  name  was  used  for  raising 
money,  he  asked  Beza  to  send  for  La  Renaudie.  He  called 
in  several  witnesses,  and  confronted  the  schemer  to  his  face. 
"  You  knew,"  said  the  Reformer,  "  before  you  left  Paris, 
that  I  was  utterly  opposed  to  this  project,  and  surely  you 
have  not  converted  me  by  your  pretensions." 

"You  will  think  it  more  worthy,"  said  La  Renaudie, 
"when  I  tell  you  that  the  Admiral  Coligny  gives  it  his 
favour." 

"That  I  cannot  believe,"  replied  Calvin,  "on  the  testi- 
mony of  one  who  has  proved  himself  false  in  this  city." 

The  conspirator  departed,  seeking  those  who  would  be 
more  easily  entrapped.  He  was  successful  in  enlisting  men 
and  gaining  money.  "As  he  had  a  caressing  manner,," 
says  Calvin,  "and  was  versed  in  the  art  of  cajolery,  he  won 
the  affection  of  many  among  us,  so  that  in  the  space  of  three 
days  his  principles  corrupted  this  city,  as  if  it  were  by  con- 
tagion, ^lany  men  among  the  nobility,  as  well  as  among 
the  working-jieople,  began  to  hold  secret  meetings."  All 
was  done  "  under  the  seal  of  an  oath  not  to  ilisclose  any- 
thing that  was  going  on."     In  Berne  and  L;msanne  he  also 


1G8  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

raised  troops,  ready  for  a  secret  march.  The  gates  of  Ge- 
neva were  closely  guarded,  lest  armed  men  should  depart. 
Various  devices  were  employed  to  gain  an  exit. 

Among  the  French  refugees  at  Geneva  for  their  religion 
were  the  Baron  Castelnau  and  the  lord  of  Villemongis. 
Each  had  been  drawn  into  the  plot.  At  first  Villemongis 
turned  it  into  ridicule,  and  flatly  refused  to  have  anything 
to  do  Avith  it.  Then,  "  being  frank  and  straightforward," 
says  Calvin,  "  he  consulted  me,  whether  he  should  under- 
take a  journey  to  settle  some  matters  with  his  brother,  who 
had  reduced  him  to  great  straits,  I  have  no  doubt  but  he 
was  swayed"  by  this  motive,  but  he  was  also  actuated  by 
another  consideration." 

"  I  promise  to  avoid  all  contact  with  the  conspirators," 
said  he,  "and  stand  aloof  from  their  projects." 

"  I  know  you,"  replied  Calvin.  "  You  will  not  stand 
aloof  when  once  you  are  on  the  spot.  Remain,  then,  where 
3'ou  are." 

"  Of  course,  if  Coligny  should  command  me,  I  could  not 
dare  to  refuse  entering  into  the  plot." 

"  Have  you  profited  so  little  in  the  school  of  God  as  to 
do  evil  to  please  men?  The  greatest  service  you  could 
render  the  admiral  to  whom  you  bear  so  great  an  aflfection 
would  be  to  ])revent  him  from  meddling  in  this  business 
and  toll  him  that  I  send  him  word  in  the  name  of  God;  to 
avoid  all  wrong  and  not  become  entangled  in  the  affair. 
But  I  have  no  fear  of  his  embarking  in  such  a  childish 
game."  * 

*  CalvHi's  Letters,  dlxi.,  dlxii.,  dlxiii.,  dlxxxviii.  (the  last  to  Admi- 
ral Coligny).  The  extent  of  Calvin's  information  shows  that  he  had 
prompt  and  full  correspondents  in  France.  lie  is  Avorthy  of  attention 
on  tlie  events  of  liis  time. 

The  Amhoise  tiln\idt  was  related  to  tlie  IIiigiicnf)t  wars  about  as  the 
Boston  tea  afl'air  was  to  the  American  war  of  independence.     It  is 


A   CHIEFTAIN    WANTED.  169 

However,  Villeinongis  could  not  rest  uutil  he  had  decided 
to  return  to  France.  He  intended  to  visit  the  admiral,  but 
probably  fell  into  other  hands.  About  sixty  persons  left 
Geneva,  despite  the  protests  of  Calvin. 

La  Rcnaudie  reappeared  in  France.  His  first  care  was 
to  visit  every  part  of  the  kingdom  and  enlist  the  discon- 
tented in  his  scheme — not  only  Protestants,  but  Roman 
Catholics.  He  drew  many  of  them  to  Nantes,  where  they 
made  weddings  enough  for  a  capital  ruse.  The  February 
of  15G0  had  just  opened.  He  laid  before  them  his  plans. 
Districts  were  allotted  to  different  chiefs,  who  were  to  raise 
forces  speedily  and  secretly,  and  be  ready  for  a  sudden 
movement.  At  the  proper  time  they  were  all  to  take  the 
by-roads  and  assemble  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Blois,  where 
the  court  was  then  residing.  Tiien  certain  of  the  leaders 
were  to  go  unarmed  into  the  king's  presence  and  present  a 
petition  for  liberty  of  conscience.  Of  course  this  would  be 
rejected,  and  the  leaders  dismissed.  Then  the  conspirators 
were  to  rush  into  the  town,  as  if  made  furious  by  this  re- 
jection, seize  the  Guises  and  hold  them  for  trial,  and  place 
the  king  in  the  hands  of  the  Prince  of  Conde,  who  was  to 
be  near  the  court,  but  not  engaged  in  the  enterprise. 

Such  was  the  plan.  Its  secresy  astonished  the  historian 
De  Thou,  who  regards  it  as  a  proof  of  the  violent  hatred 
against  the  Guises — "  a  hatred  which  could  gather  together 
so  many  men  from  all  parts  of  the  country ;  among  whom 
good  faith  was  so  religiously  preserved  that  the  first  inti- 
mation the  Guises  received  of  the  conspiracy  was  from  Ger- 
many, Italy  and  Spain,  rather  than  from  the  spies  and  in- 
formers with  whom  they  had  covered  the  face  of  the  king- 

wortiiy  of  notice  because  it  involved  somewhat  the  Colignys  and  llieir 
I'rotestant  friends.     Tlie   literature  on   tiie  subject  is  very  extensive. 
The  Protestants  were  not  alone  in  holding  tiiat  in  the  "tumult"  there 
Vfas  pins  (h  mulcoiilcntcincnl  n>ic  dc  llujotwtcrk,  as  Anquetil  affirms. 
Vol.  I. —  Ij 


170  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

dom ;  one  man  only  being  found  in  Franco,  and  he  a  Pro- 
testant, who,  in  abhorrence  of  the  thing,  couhl  be  found  to 
divulge  it." 

The  court  was  at  Blois  for  the  benefit  of  the  young  king's 
health.  His  presence  caused  almost  a  solitude,  for  upon  all 
sides  the  peasants  had  disappeared.  He  noticed  the  general 
fear  of  him,  and  asked,  sorrowfully,  what  he  had  done  to 
excite  such  a  dread  and  hatred  of  him.  He  was  soothed 
by  some  gentle  reply.  The  fact  was,  that  a  strange  report 
had  been  spread  abroad ;  it  was  that  the  king  was  a  leper, 
and  that  the  only  means  of  healing  him  were  daily  baths 
of  infants'  blood !  Who  would  circulate  so  horrible  a  ru- 
mour? Some  persons  had  gone  into  the  villages,  pretend- 
ing to  be  sent  by  the  royal  family,  and  taken  lists  of  the 
young  children.  One  of  these  presumed  agents  was  ar- 
rested. He  declared  that  he  had  acted  under  the  orders  of 
the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  and  that  he  had  been  instructed 
to  circulate  reports  that  the  blood  of  all  the  reigning  family 
W'as  corrupt!  If  this  w'ere  true,  the  cardinal  meant  to  ex- 
cite prejudice  against  the  house  of  Yalois,  and  thus  open 
the  way  for  the  house  of  Guise  to  take  the  throne.  If  it 
was  false,  the  effect  was  the  same ;  it  aided  greatly  the  scheme. 
The  peasants  who  remained  were  ready  to  give  a  welcome 
hiding-place  to  the  assumed  liberators  of  the  king. 

The  court  soon  received  alarming  news.  A  law^'cr  of 
Paris,  named  Avenelles,  and  a  Protestant,  with  whom  the 
chief  actor  had  lodged,  had  suspected  that  his  many  visit- 
ors had  other  errands  than  friendship.  He  sounded  his 
guest,  learned  the  secret,  reported  it  to  the  ministers  of  the 
king,  and  got  his  reward.  On  the  tenth  of  March  (1560), 
five  hundred  mounted  gentlemen  and  about  twelve  hundred 
armed  footmen  were  to  concentrate  near  Blois.  Not  a  mo- 
ment was  to  be  lost.  The  king  must  be  secured.  It  is  said 
that  Catherine  let  herself  down  from  a  window  in  her  escape. 


A    CHIEFTAIN    AV ANTED.  171 

The  court,  under  pretence  of  a  liunting-party,  went  to  the 
neighbouring  vilhige  of  Aniboi.se,  and  took  refuge  in  the 
castle  built  on  a  hill  and  surrounded  by  a  lieavy  forest. 
The  royal  trooj)s  were  ordered  to  hasten  and  defend  the 
place.* 

"  What  have  I  done  to  ray  people,  that  they  thus  pursue 
me?"  pitifully  asked  the  poor  sick  king,  weeping  as  he 
appealed  to  his  uncles.  "  1  will  hear  their  complaints  and 
redress  them.  I  wish  that  you  would  absent  yourselves  for 
a  time,  so  that  I  may  see  whether  it  is  you  or  me  against 
whom  they  rage."  The  Lorraines  took  good  care  not  to 
comply  with  this  advice,  for,  once  out  of  court,  they  would 
have  seen  the  whole  nobility  of  France  rise  up  to  prevent 
their  return. 

Only  those  "  foreigners"  need  be  afraid,  as  the  court  soon 
learned ;  for  the  king  employed  that  keen  diplomatist, 
Michael  de  Castelnau,f  to  ferret  out  the  matter.  As  he 
was  friendly  to  the  Guises,  his  testimony  is  worth  attention. 
He  says:  "I  remember  that  when  the  conspiracy  of  Am- 
boise  was  first  discovered,  having  then  the  honour  of  being 
near  his  majesty's  person,  he  sent  me  to  get  what  informa- 
tions I  could  of  their  designs.  And  some  told  me  that 
their  intention  was  only  to  present  a  petition  to  the  king 
against  the  house  of  Guise;  that  there  had  been  a  meeting 
of  Protestants  at  Nantes  on  this  subject;  that  La  llenaudie 
Avas  appointed  to  manage  the  matter ;  that  he  also  employed 

*  "Tl\e  town  of  Anihoise  is  moan  and  ill-l)nilt.  .  .  .  The  castle  is 
fiituatetl  on  a  craggy  rock,  extremely  difliciilt  of  access,  and  the  sides  of 
whicii  descend  almost  perpendicuhir.  At  its  foot  flows  the  Loire.  I 
am  not  surprised  that  the  Duke  of  Guise,  in  the  appreliension  of  an 
insurrection  among  the  Huguenots,  chose  to  remove  Francis  the  Se- 
cond to  this  fortress." —  Wrujcairs  'Toui-  in  Fiance,  I77G. 

f  A  very  ditTcrent  man  from  the  Protestant  Castcluau  of  Geneva, 
but  an  admired  historian  of  liis  time. 


172  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

Conde  as  the  head  (although  this  chief  was  now  at  Ara- 
boise) ;  that  the  resolution  was  to  seize  and  prosecute  the 
Guises  for  high  treason ;  and  this  with  consent  of  his 
majesty.  Although  the  Protestants  were  accused  of  a 
design  to  murder  the  royal  family  and  the  lords  of  the 
council,  yet  the  common  opinion  was  that  they  only 
intended  to  extirpate  the  house  of  Guise  and  place  the 
princes  of  the  blood,  the  families  of  Montmorency  and 
Chatillon  (then  out  of  favour),  at  the  head  of  affairs,  in 
hopes  of  being  supported  by  them.  And  this  certainly  was 
their  design." 

He  also  says  that  the  Duke  of  Guise  fell  upon  a  band 
of  the  enemy,  and  "  that  most  of  the  poor  country  fellows, 
not  knowing  what  to  do,  threw  away  their  old  rusty  arms 
and  begged  for  mercy.  In  their  simplicity  they  declared 
that  they  knew  nothing  more  than  that  they  were  to  meet 
on  a  certain  day  to  present  a  petition  to  the  king,  for  the 
good  of  himself  and  of  the  kingdom."  Such  evidence  is 
not  to  be  set  aside.* 

"  It  is  you,  it  is  you,"  said  the  young  king  to  the  Cardinal 
of  Lorraine,  "  who  have  rendered  me  odious  to  my  sub- 
jects." He  and  his  queen  re])ented  the  day  that  they  had 
sacrificed  all  to  the  ambition  of  her  uncles. 

"To  the  Admiral  Coligny  we  must  resort,"  was  the  advice 
of  Catherine,  who  heartily  rejoiced  that  she  had  given  some 
hope  to  the  Protestants  and  wished  to  treat  with  them. 
Had  she  received  a  paper  from  the  minister  Chandieu?  It 
so  appears  from  a  current  report.  "  Let  us  follow  the 
counsels  which  have  been  so  despised.  All  is  lost  if  Ave  do 
not  calm  the  Protestants." 

"  No  truce  with  heretics !"  exclaimed  the  furious  Lor- 
raine ;  and  the  work  of  blood  went  on. 

The  Guises  shrewdly  wished  to  test  the  Admiral  Coligny, 
*  M^moires  de  Ctustelnau. 


A    CHIEFTAIN    WANTED.  173 

Avhom  tlicy  suspected  and  feared.  Thoy  requested  the  queen- 
mother  to  write  to  him — for  she  still  favoured  him — and 
invite  him  to  Amboise  for  the  protection  of  the  king.* 
Andelot  wa.s  also  summoned.  Conscious  of  innocence,  the)' 
repaired  to  the  court  without  delay.  They  avowed  loyalty, 
but  the  admiral  gave  the  advice  which  the  chancellor  de- 
sired. "  I  do  not  hesitate  to  declare,"  said  he,  "  that  the 
present  discontent  arises  from  the  violent  measures  of  the 
administration,  and  the  persecution  of  those  who  worship 
God  according  to  their  consciences.  Yet  it  is  not  too  late 
to  allay  these  disorders.  It  may  be  done  by  publishing  an 
edict  granting  liberty  of  conscience,  and  promising  to  refer 
religious  disputes  to  a  general  council."  Catherine  also 
urged  that  all  violent  measures  be  suspended. 

"  It  must  be  done,"  replied  the  usually  wavering  Chan- 
cellor Olivier;  and  it  was  attempted  at  once.  An  edict 
was  prepared,  hurried  through  parliament  and  published 
on  the  twelfth  of  March,  l^ut  the  hand  of  treachery  had 
despoiled  it  of  mercy  and  justice.  It  exempted  from  par- 
don all  Protestant  preachers,  all  who  had  conspired  against 
the  royal  family  and  the  pviiicipa!  ministers  of  state,  and, 
in  short,  everyl^ody  wh(j  was  at  all  likely  to  need  a  pardon. 
And  even  a  pardoned  man  was  made  liable  to  a  secret 
arrest  and  s])eodv  trial  if  he  had  not  utterly  renounced  the 
Reformed  doctrines.  This  2)ai)er  added  fuel  to  the  flames  ; 
and,  as  if  there  were  not  provocation  enough,  the  Duke  of 
Guise  asked  to  be  fully  confirmed  lieutenant-general  of  the 
kingdom.  There  was  no  one  to  deny  the  request;  thus  he 
was  almost  an  absolute  dictator.f 

*  "  Ad  conciliniii  i)i)eni(iue  fiTi'inlain." — Pitlldviriito,  Hist.  Concil, 
Trident.,  lib.  xiv.  cap.  12.  Thi.s  deft'ndcr  of  tlie  j)o{)cs  mentions  Ad- 
miral Colignyas  "a  man  illustrious  in  virtue,  in  council,  in  authority, 
and  in  the  number  of  his  va.-<.sals." 

f  The  hand  of  Lorraine  is  evident  in  a  proclamation  issued  the  ICth 
15* 


174  ADMIRAL    COLIGXY. 

The  rriiicc  of  Conde,  tlie  mute  chief  of  the  movement, 
was  among  the  first  at  the  trysting-place.  But  his  part  was 
not  to  make  a  foray  ;  it  was  to  thrust  himself  between  the 
king  and  the  Guises  and  assume  the  protection  of  his  sove- 
reign. As  he  entered  the  gates  of  the  castle  of  Amboise, 
the  unusual  number  of  sentinels  and  certain  precautions  in 
his  reception  convinced  him  that  the  plot  was  discovered 
and  that  he  was  suspected,  but,  feeling  sure  that  he  had  not 
yet  been  denounced  as  a  conspirator,  he  at  once  declared 
loyalty  to  his  king.  Indeed,  his  loyalty  was  so  strong  that 
he  wished  to  rescue  Francis  from  tyranny.  He  affected 
great  indignation  on  hearing  that  there  were  traitors  bold 
enough  to  threaten  violence.  He  requested  that  some  post 
might  be  given  him  in  which  he  might  assist  in  defending 
the  castle.  Did  he  craftily  intend  thus  to  introduce  the 
enemy  ?  Perhaps  he  sought  to  retrieve  himself  This  offer 
was  granted,  but  pains  were  taken  to  place  him  where  he 
could  neither  aid  the  cons2:)irators  nor  make  sure  his  own 
escape. 

The  dalliance  of  the  King  of  Navarre  had  h.elped  the 
Guises  into  power  ;  the  delay  of  La  Kenaudie  and  his  banil 
prevented  them  from  being  thrust  out  of  power.  A  sur- 
prise was  the  hope  of  the  insurgents,  but  a  surprise  was 
now  impossible.  Time  had  worn  on  from  the  tenth  to  the 
seventeenth  of  March.  The  forests,  which  might  have  been 
their  avenue  to  the  castle,  were  now  the  ambush  of  its  de- 
fenders. La  Renaudie,  with  five  hundred  mounted  gentry, 
drew  near  the  gates.  IMazeres  led  seventy  picked  men  into 
the  town  to  operate  with  Conde.     He  concealed  them  in 

of  March,  in  the  name  tif  the  king.  It  gives  the  dni<e  a  royal  power 
to  bring  all  the  artillery  oi'  France  against  "les  seditieux  et  rebelled," 
then  at  the  gates  of  Amboise.  He  might  arrest  and  punish  them  with 
"the  pains  and  usual  rigours,  without  form  or  figure  of  trial." — Me- 
moires  de  Conde  {Pouvoir  du  Due  de  Guise). 


A    ClIIEFTAIX    WANTED.  175 

garrets  and  cellars.  Another  captain  undertook  to  lodge 
thirty  more  in  the  castle  itself.  New  plots  were  laid;  a  new 
traitor  exposed  them. 

iV  thrilling  address  was  issued  to  the  "  French  people." 
It  rings  like  the  eloquence  of  Conde  or  La  Renaudie.  It 
ran  :  "  The  hour  has  come  for  us  to  show  what  faith  and 
loyalty  we  have  to  our  king.  The  enterprise  is  discovered, 
the  house  of  Guise  has  detected  it.  Behold  the  strangers 
at  our  gates  !  They  would  seize  all.  They  know  our  fidelity 
to  our  prince.  They  would  tear  him  from  us.  They  call 
for  foreign  armies  from  Italy  and  England.  They  will  tax 
and  oppress  you  more  and  more.  O  poor  French  nation  ! 
Is  this  the  regard  they  have  for  you?  Has  it  come  to  pass 
that  a  king  has  no  subjects  to  guard  and  defend  him? 
Will  not  God,  ever  good  and  kind,  avenge  the  blood  of  the 
innocent  people?  Shall  these  strangers  destroy  your  chil- 
dren and  cover  you  with  infamy?  Shall  the  crown  be 
snatched  from  those  whom  the  house  of  Guise  calls  Hugue- 
nots,* because  they  are  the  descendants  of  Hugo  Capet,  and 
usurped  by  those  who  name  themselves  after  Charlemagne?" 
This  was  of  no  avail. 

All  was  known.  The  Duke  of  Guise  sent  out  his  men  ; 
they  fell  upon  the  advancing  parties,  scattered  them,  slew 
some  with  the  sword,  tied  others  to  their  horses  and  dragged 
them  to  the  castle,  where  they  hung  them  from  the  battle- 
ments ;  drowned  some  in  the  Loire  and  stretched  others 
dead  in  the  streets.  La  Renaudie  made  a  brave  and  fierce 
attack,  but,  finding  that  his  gentlemen  could  not  resist  the 

*  I  i'uu]  HO  earlier  use  of  this  term  as  applied  to  a  party  in  France. 
It  is  to  be  noted  that  it  was  thus  used  before  the  result  at  Amboise. 
It  did  not  originate  there  with  the  peiisantrv.  Of  this  more  again. 
But  we  remark  that  it  was  then  apitlied  to  all  the  opposers  of  the 
(iuises,  and  not  simply  to  the  I'rotc;<tauts. — Man.  de  Co)ide  {Complainte 
au  Peuple  Franfai's). 


176  ADMIRAL    COT.TGNY. 

veteran  warriors,  he  rushed  forward  to  end  his  life  in  an 
honourable  manner;  he  slew  a  valiant  knight,  whose  page 
turned  upon  him  and  shot  him  dead  upon  the  spot. 

The  Baron  Castelnau  was  brought  to  a  parley  with  the 
Duke  of  Nemours,  who  said,  "I  charge  you  with  disloyalty 
to  your  king." 

"1  am  not  in  arms  against  my  king,"  he  replied,  "but  to 
remonstrate  with  him  upon  the  arrogance  and  violence  of 
his  ministers." 

"  This  is  not  the  manner  in  which  a  loyal  subject  should 
remonstrate  with  his  king." 

"I  and  my  comrades,  in  defiance  of  the  Guises,"  an- 
swered the  noble  baron,  "  wish  to  open  a  way  to  approach 
his  majesty  in  all  reverence  and  declare  our  grievances. 
"NVe  could  not  do  this  heretofore  without  risk  of  seizure;  we 
could  not  ask  our  pay  for  loyal  services  without  being 
hanged." 

This  was  too  true.  Nemours  was  not  insensible  to  human 
rights.  Changing  his  tone,  he  said,  "  I  promise  you,  on  my 
honour,  that  if  you  will  surrender,  no  injury  shall  be  done 
to  you  or  to  any  of  your  comrades.  You  shall  be  admitted 
to  the  king,  state  your  grievances  and  depart  when  and 
whither  you  please."  He  drew  forth  a  paper  and  signed 
his  name,  Jacques  de  Savoy. 

"  I  accept  it,"  said  Castelnau,  "  on  your  good  faith." 
AVith  fifteen  of  his  companions  he  entered  the  castle  of 
Amboise.  But  no  faith  was  to  be  kcj)t  with  heretics  and 
rebels.  These  gentlemen  were- thrown  into  a  dungeon  and 
loaded  with  fetters.  Nemours  protested  he  was  "tormented 
in  his  mind  about  his  signature,"  says  Carloix,  "  for  as  to 
his  word  he  could  have  given  the  lie  without  a  scruple." 

The  few  other  attempts  were  of  no  avail.  The  speedy 
work  of  vengeance  began.  Search  was  made  in  the  town, 
in  the  woods,  in  the  houses  of  the  peasants,  who  had  fled 


A   CHIEFTAIN    WANTED.  177 

to  save  tlielr  chiklrcn  from  the  supposed  leprous  king,  and 
many  poor,  good  men  perished,  simply  for  being  in  bad 
company.  Several  travelling  merchants  were  robbed  and 
murdered.  On  the  trees,  on  gibbets  and  from  the  battle- 
ments of  the  castle  hung  dead  men.  Nearly  twelve  hun- 
dred were  hanged,  drowned  or  beheaded. 

The  valiant  old  Huguenot,  John  d'Aubigne,  was  on  his 
way  to  Paris  to  put  his  son  Theodore  Agrippa  to  school. 
He  saw  the  faces  of  many  friends  among  the  dead.  The 
aged  warrior,  shuddering  with  horror,  forgot  that  he  was 
amid  hundreds  of  listeners,  and  exclaimed,  "Oh,  the  trai- 
tors !  they  have  murdered  France."  Then  putting  his 
hand  upon  the  head  of  the  lad  of  nine  years,  he  said,  "  My 
son,  I  charge  thee,  at  the  hazard  of  thy  own  life,  as  I  will 
at  the  hazard  of  mine,  avenge  these  honourable  chiefs;  and 
if  thou  failest  to  attempt  it,  my  curse  shall  follow  thee  to 
the  grave."  The  crowd  were  so  enraged  that  D'Aubign6 
and  his  escort  barely  escaped  their  resentment.  Young 
Theodore  fulfilled  this  charge,  became  a  heroic  Huguenot 
general  and  historian,  whom  we  shall  often  quote. 

In  spite  of  pledge  and  signature  the  Baron  Castclnau 
was  put  to  the  torture.  The  Duke  of  Guise  taunted  him 
with  fear  when  he  hesitated  to  answer  the  questions  put  to 
him.  "Fear!"  said  he;  "  I  by  no  means  deny  it.  Change 
})laces  with  me,  and  see  whether  every  limb  of  your  body 
shall  not  quiver!     But  God  will  aid  me  in  my  defence." 

"  I  am  surprised,"  said  the  Chancellor  Olivier,  "  that  in 
your  pursuits  you  should  have  become  such  a  profound 
theologian  as  you  now  prove  yourself  to  be." 

"  I  must  remind  you,  sir,"  was  the  severe  rejdy,  "  of  a 
conversation  we  once  held  together.  When  I  visited  you  on 
my  return  from  an  imprisonment  in  Flanders,  you  asked 
me  how  I  had  employed  the  tedious  hours  of  my  captivity. 
I  replied  that  I  had  studied  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  ac- 


178  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

quainted  myself  with  the  controversies  then  agitating  men's 
spirits.  You  approved  my  course ;  you  resolved  the  doubts 
which  I  still  retained,  and  we  mutually  agreed.  How  hap- 
pens it  that,  since  that  time,  one  of  us  has  so  greatly  changed 
his  opinions  that  we  cannot  now  understand  each  other?  I 
will  supply  your  answer.  Tlien  you  were  in  disgrace,  and 
spoke  in  tlie  sincerity  of  your  heart ;  now  you  are  the 
wretched  eye-servant  of  court  favour,  and  in  order  to  please 
a  man  who  probably  despises  you,  you  betray  your  God 
and  your  conscience.  Did  you  not  then  express  the  wish 
that  all  the  nobility  of  France  resembled  me  in  zeal  and 
affection,  because  I  had  chosen  'that  better  part?'"  The 
chancellor  held  down  his  head  abashed,  but  the  tortured 
man  continued  :  "  How  dare  you,  trembling  on  the  edge  of 
the  grave,  yield  to  that  cardinal?  Is  it  not  enough  that 
you  lent  yourself  to  persecute  the  poor  churches  of  INIerin- 
dol  and  Cabrieres?  Have  I  not  heard  you  declare  with 
groans  and  tears  that  for  this  God  had  rejected  you  ?  O 
miserable  man !  You  who  have  trifled,  through  life,  with 
God  and  his  Word,  know  that  the  time  of  your  accouut  ia 
near ! " 

The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  came  to  the  relief  of  his  em- 
barrassed colleague,  but  was  soon  silenced.  Castelnau 
turned  to  the  Duke  of  Guise,  saying,  "  I  beg  you  to  remark 
that  your  bi'other  is  confuted." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  arguing,"  replied  the  duke,  brutally; 
"but  I  very  well  understand  how  to  cut  off  heads." 

"Would  to  God,"  answered  the  baron,  "that  you  did 
know  as  much  of  theology  as  your  brother!  I  am  certain 
that  if  you  had  the  light  and  learning  which  he  possesses, 
you  would  employ  them  to  a  better  purpose.  As  to  the 
threat  of  cutting  off  heads,  it  is  unworthy  of  such  a  prince 
as  you."  This  was  a  compliment  to  the  duke.  But  the 
baron  was  speedily  condemned  for  treason.      On  hearing 


A    CHIEFTAIN    WANTED.  179 

his  sentence,  he  said,  "  I  ought  tlien  to  have  dechircd  that 
the  Guises  are  the  kings  of  France!" 

The  a<hniral  and  Andelot  went  to  the  king  and  his 
mother,  begging  that  so  good  a  man  be  saved,  not  only  on 
account  of  his  virtues  and  the  eminent  services  rendered 
by  his  faniily  to  the  crown,  but  also  to  avoid  the  popular 
resentment  which  his  execution  would  provoke.  Catherine 
(lid  all  she  could ;  she  even  went  into  their  apartments  and 
entreated  these  "new  kings,  who  were  become  so  invisible." 
Rut  said  the  cardinal,  with  an  oath,  "  He  shall  die ;  the 
man  breathes  not  in  France  who  shall  save  him." 

With  four  other  captains  he  was  led  to  the  scaffold.  He 
bowed  his  head  to  the  axe,  appealing  from  the  injustice  of 
man  to  the  justice  of  his  Maker.  The  last  of  the  four  was 
Villemongis,  who  had  refused  Calvin's  advice.  Dipping 
his  hands  in  the  blood  of  his  comrades,  he  kneeled  at  the 
block,  and  then  raising  them  to  heaven,  he  cried  aloud, 
"Father,  behold  the  blood  of  thy  children!  Thou  wilt 
avenge  it." 

The  whole  court  witnessed  the  tragic  spectacle.  ^lary 
of  Scots  was  there ;  what  a  lesson  for  her  who  needed  to 
learn  how  to  be  a  political  martyr  1  The  child  soon  to  be 
crowned  as  Charles  IX.  was  there ;  he  needed  to  shudder 
before  taking  his  part  in  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew. 
But  the  only  person  who  shrank  from  the  sight  was  Anne, 
the  Duchess  of  Guise.  Did  she  recall  the  piety  of  her 
mother,  Remc,  the  firm  Protestant,  now  living  in  her  castle 
of  Montargis?  She  rushed  to  her  chamber,  declaring  that 
vensreance  must  fall  on  the  heads  of  her  own  sons.  The 
Prince  of  Conde  was  compelled  to  be  present,  and,  though 
surrounded  by  spies,  he  uttered  words  of  pity  and  indig- 
nation. 

The  Chanceller  Olivier,  usually  merciful,  retired  from 
the  scene,  lashed  by  self-reproach  for  his  temporizing  spirit. 


180  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

A  heavy  gloom  settled  upon  his  mind,  followed  by  an  acute 
fever.  The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  visited  him  in  his  last 
agonies,  but,  according  to  one  account,  he  recoiled  from  the 
sight,  turned  his  face  to  the  wall  and  expired.  Another 
account  is,  that  he  recalled  the  execution  of  Du  Bourg,  and 
with  despair  exclaimed,  "  Ah,  cardinal !  thou  hast  caused 
the  damnation  of  us  all !" 

The  tortured  secretary  of  La  Renaudie,  in  hope  of  being 
saved  by  some  exposure  of  the  leaders,  affirmed  that  the 
Prince  of  Conde  was  the  silent  chief  of  the  movement ;  that 
he  designed  to  murder  the  king,  his  brothers,  the  two  queens 
and  the  Guises,  and,  overthrowing  the  monarchy,  establish 
a  republic  on  the  Swiss  model.  This  was  incredible,  even 
to  the  Guises.  But  the  king  declared  his  suspicions  in 
Conde's  face,  and  forbade  his  departure  from  Amboise. 
He  demanded  an  inquiry:  in  full  council  he  defended  him- 
self, so  that  the  Duke  of  Guise  rose  and  said,  "So  firmly 
am  I  convinced  of  the  innocence  of  the  prince  that  if  any 
accuser  appear  I  tender  my  services  as  his  second."  This 
was,  however,  consummate  hypocrisy.  There  was  not  a 
shadow  of  evidence  that  the  admiral  was  a  jiarty  in  the 
plot;*  the  leaders  feared  to  trust  it  to  him,  and  yet  he  was 
kept  under  the  vigilance  of  the  court.  At  the  urgent  re- 
quest of  his  friends,  he  published  a  defence  of  himself  a 
year  or  two  after  the  affair  had  tei'minated. 

The  stifling  air  bore  witness  to  the  crime  of  slaughtering 
so  many  Frenchmen,  who  had  been  honest  in  their  mis- 

*  "  Some  thonglit  that  if  the  admiral  and  Andelot  had  been  con- 
cerned the  plot  would  have  sncceeded  better  ;  but  it  was  believed  that, 
like  wise  men,  they  had  a  mind  to  see  the  event  of  the  petition  that 
was  to  be  laid  before  the  king.  However  none  of  the  conspirators 
ever  charged  them  with  having  a  hand  in  it."  (  None  but  the  secre- 
tary of  Renaudie,  whose  words  were  given  under  terror  and  with  hope 
of  reward.) — Memoires  de  Castelnau. 


A    CIIIKFTAIN    WANTED.    .  181 

taken  policy  and  conscientious  in  their  motives.  The  king 
could  not  breathe  it  without  hastening  his  death.  The 
court  prepared  to  remove  to  Tours.  While  it  was  still  a 
(juestion  whether  to  hold  the  Prince  of  Cond6  or  set  him  at 
liberty,  he  cut  the  matter  short  by  an  escape.  As  he 
mounted  his  horse  to  depart,  his  friend  Genlis  asked  him, 
"  What  message  shall  I  bear  to  the  king?" 

"  Assure  him  of  my  most  perfect  loyalty  and  submission 
in  every  point  except  religion.  I  have  sworn,  and  here  I 
solemnly  swear  again,  that  I  will  never  go  to  mass." 

Some  of  the  Protestants  came  to  regard  the  affair  at 
Amboise  as  a  noble  attempt  to  gain  their  liberty.  It  re- 
vealed to  them  their  strength  when  properly  united  and 
directed.  Brantome  tells  us  that  many  said,  "Yesterday  we 
belonged  not  to  the  conspiracy,  and  we  would  not  have  been 
of  it  for  all  the  gold  in  the  universe ;  to-day  we  would  be 
so  for  the  smallest  coin,  and  we  say  that  the  enterprise  was 
good  and  holy."  Not  thus  said  Calvin  and  the  more  pious 
Huguenots. 

The  Reform  was  in  ]>cril.  The  danger  was  that  the 
spirit  of  armed  and  open  resistance  would  carry  away  the 
entire  Protestant  Church  in  France.  Piety  should  ever  be 
loyal,  but  it  cannot  become  political  without  the  saddest 
decline.  Conde  was  rousing  the  warlike  temper  in  the 
Protestants,  wlio  could  not  think  of  Anil)oisc  and  its 
twelve  hundred  victims  and  remain  utterly  indifferent. 
He  went  into  the  far  south-west.  He  put  himself  in  corre- 
spondence with  the  malcontents  of  all  comi)lcxions.  One- 
third  of  the  people  of  the  realm  were  said  to  be  secretly 
attached  to  this  party.  In  various  ]ilaces  they  were  prepar- 
ing for  resistance.  They  heard  of  Romish  priests  pouring 
forth  abuse  against  thetn  with  lusty  lungs.  They  read  fiery 
pamphlets  and  broadsides,  i)ictured  with  rude  wood-cuts,  in 
which  they  were  represented  in  the  most  offensive  light. 
Vol.  I.— 16 


182  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY, 

There  were  also  wits  among  them.  They  put  forth  sharp 
satires,  one  of  which  was  "  The  Tiger,"  written  for  the 
especial  benefit  of  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine.  The  authox*- 
ship  is  still  a  mystery,  but  when  a  Parisian  bookseller  would 
not,  or  could  not,  tell  the  author,  he  was  hanged.  No  one's 
life  was  secure  at  the  capital. 

In  various  towns  the  Romanists  armed  themselves,  often 
Avith  priests  and  monks  for  their  captains.  Such  move- 
ments provoked  the  Huguenots,  especially  the  politicians 
among  them.  We  need  not  wonder  if  they  sometimes  re- 
taliated, despite  the  advice  of  their  preachers  and  the  more 
devout  class.  They  sold  and  ate  meat*  openly  during  Lent, 
at  Rheims,  besides  crashing  a  few  windows,  lanterns  and 
images  in  the  cathedral.  At  Rouen  a  fanatic  was  preach- 
ing up  purgatory  ;  he  was  disturbed,  called  a  fool  and  cried 
down.  In  one  of  Andelot's  tow^is  the  "new  apostles"  took 
possession  of  the  largest  church,  but  they  were  besieged  by 
the  papal  clergy,  and  a  culverin  pointed  against  them. 
They  escaped  in  the  night.     The  bishop  was  rebuked  for  it. 

The  Prince  of  Conde  was  resolved  upon  a  more  extended 
resistance.  He  wished  to  capture  and  hold  churches,  cas- 
tles, towns  and  treasuries  in  the  name  of  the  king.  But 
what  a  cold  chill  ran  over  him  when  he  found  his  brother 
Antony  like  an  iceberg  in  the  good  old  harbour  of  the 
Protestants!  This  weak,  fickle  king  had  raised  some  troops 
for  Amboise,  but,  on  the  failure  of  the  plot,  he  had  em- 
ployed them  directly  against  his  friends.  Ever  eager  to 
])rovidc  for  his  own  safety,  he  had  attacked  a  body  of  two 
tliousand  Protestants  assembled  to  give  him  their  support, 

*  "  If  any  one  eats  meat  in  Lent,"  Erasmus  liad  written,  "Heavens  I 
what  a  noise  !  The  Church  is  in  danger !  the  workl  is  overrun  with 
heretics  !"  At  Angers,  in  1539,  tliose  who  were  arrested  for  tliis 
"  heinous  sin"  were  burnt  alive  if  they  did  not  recant,  and  hanged  if 
they  repented. 


A    CHIEFTAIN    WANTKD.  1^3 

and  driven  them  lioine.  No  pains  had  lie  spared  to  con- 
vince the  court  that  he  stood  by  tlie  ministers  of  the  king. 
"  Go  back,"  said  he  to  Conde ;  "  return  to  tlie  (rourt  and 
alhiy  all  suspicions  against  you,  by  being  loyal." 

"  Loyal!"  replied  the  prince;  "  I  must  be  loyal  to  France 
and  to  the  interests  of  all  true  Frenchmen.  Come,  you  are 
an  older  Protestant  than  I  am;  you  profess  more  piety;  will 
you  be  disloyal  to  the  great  religious  party  which  will  rise 
in  its  greatness  and  deliver  both  State  and  Church  ?"  An- 
tony ever  sought  to  be  upon  the  strongest  side.  The  trimmer 
now  began  to  think  that  Cond^  would  succeed,  and  he  again 
changed — a  work  which  skill  and  practice  made  easy.  His 
court  was  once  more  a  refuge  for  the  Protestants.  Among 
them  was  the  elder  ]\Ialigny  (afterward  the  Vidame  of 
Chartres),  who  begged  him  and  Conde,  in  the  name  of  more 
than  a  million  of  men,  to  take  some  bold  step  in  the  ad- 
vance. An  appeal  was  published,*  the  rallying-cry  went 
forth.  The  younger  ]Maligny  led  twelve  hundred  men  to 
surprise  Lyons,f  but  "our  Hotspur,"  as  Calvin  calls  him, 
failed  to  hold  the  city  after  he  had  taken  it — an  illustration 
of  what  occurred  in  other  places,  where  such  mistaken 
efforts  were  made.  It  was  well.  Cond<i  was  far  out  of  the 
right  road  to  Huguenot  prosperity. 

*  Mdm.  de  Cond(5,  Supplication  au  Roi  de  Navarre,  etc. 
f  Calvin's  Lettei-s,  dlxx. ;  Thuani  Hist.,  lib.  x.xv. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Tiro    GItEAT   r ARTIES. 

THE  king  was  coming  to  Tours.  A  baker  in  the  suburbs 
told  his  family  what  a  grand  entry  he  would  make  into 
the  ancient  city.  His  only  child,  a  boy  of  six  years,  begged 
a  sight  of  the  gorgeous  procession.  The  man  was  full  of 
liumour,  and  sought  to  amuse  his  son.  He  took  a  donkey 
from  the  mill,  decorated  him  with  calicoes  and  set  on  him 
the  child,  who  had  his  eyes  bandaged,  a  wooden  helmet  on 
his  head,  and  a  crest  on  which  was  a  red-headed  bird  peck- 
ing away  at  his  skull.  The  donkey  was  led  by  two  lads 
coloured  and  dressed  as  Moors. 

The  court  was  not  in  the  mood  to  laugh  with  the  crowd 
that  followed  the  innocent  baker's  child.  Their  dignities 
saw  in  this  silly  masquerade  the  mystery  of  their  politics. 
They  needed  no  Daniel  to  interpret  its  meaning,  for  they 
thought  it  more  than  a  dream.  To  their  sharp  perceptions 
the  blindfolded  boy  represented  the  king ;  the  red-headed 
bird  was  the  red-capped  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  ;  the  Moorish 
youths  were  the  foreign  princes,  and  especially  the  Spanish 
directors  of  French  affairs.  This  interpretation  was  not  so 
far-fetched,  but  it  was  altogether  unintended.  The  royal 
guard  were  so  enraged  that  they  were  scarcely  restrained 
from  sacking  the  city.  The  unmeaning  burlesque  was 
charged  to  the  spirit  of  the  harmless  Protestants.  Perhaps 
it  Avas  turned  to  their  good  ;  for  if  their  faith  was  not 
respected,  the  follies  imputed  to  them  wrought  a  fear  of 
their  popular  strength. 

184 


TWO   GREAT    PARTIES.  185 

The  story  is,  tliat  when  the  insurgents  were  fleeing  from 
Aniboiso,  the  peasants  who  had  harboured  tiiem  at  the  rislc 
of  life  said,  "They  are  not  worth  a  huguenot" * — a  small 
coin  so  named  from  Hugh  Capet.  Some  have  imagined 
this  to  be  the  origin  of  the  title  given  to  the  Protestants  of 
France;  more  than  a  dozen  guesses  have  been  made  in  this 
direction.  The  name  became  more  common  after  this  event, 
simply  because  those  who  bore  it  were  more  the  objects  of 
ridicule.  There  can  be  little  question  that  the  term  had 
long  I)een  used  in  Switzerland,  having  been  derived  from 
the  word  Eidesgenossen — the  oath-bound  leaguers,  and  ap- 
plied chiefly  to  the  liberty  party  of  Geneva.'}'  It  might 
readily  pass  into  France.  Davila  says,  "  These  people  were 
commonly  called  Hugonots,  because  the  conventicles  that 
they  had  in  the  city  of  Tours  (where  that  sect  first  gath- 
ered strength  and  increased)  were  in  certain  cellars  under 
ground,  near  Hugo's  gate,  from  whence  they  were  by  the 
vulgar  sort  named  Hugonots ;  as  in  Flanders  they  were 
called  Geux  [beggars],  because  they  Avore  the  habit  of 
mendicants.  Others  relate  several  ridiculous  and  fabulous 
inventions  concerning  the  origin  of  this  name."  It  was, 
then,  a  puzzle  in  less  than  a  hundred  years  after  it  was  first 
applied  to  the  Protestants. 

In  the  pamphlet  war  of  the  times  another  origin  was 
claimed  for  it  by  the  Protestants,  as  appears  from  several 

*  Mi'in.  do  Castolii;iii,  ii.  7. 

t  Enguenot,  iin  mot  Allemand;  en  Fraii9ois  Bon-alli(;;  .says  the 
Kevcreiide  Sanir  Jeanne  de  Jussie,  a  contemporary  of  William  Farel. 
Ill  the  margin  the  word  Huguenot  is  used. — Le  Levain  du  Calrinisme. 

Before  me  is  a  very  curious  and  libellons  old  book  (date  of  1573), 
entitled,  "Genealogie  et  la  fin  des  lluguenaux,  et  descouverte  du  Cal- 
vinisine,  par  M.  (iabriel  de  Saconay."  With  great  learning  he  draws 
parallels  l)etween  the  Calvinists  and  the  apes,  deriving  from  the  latter 
the  term  Huguenot.  Perhaps  this  priest  had  ntaiiing  better  to  ofler 
in  reply  to  the  scathing  pen  of  Calvin. 
It;  s 


186  ADMIRAL   COLIC  NY, 

of  their  tracts.  The  Guises  asserted  their  descent  from 
Charlemagne ;  the  Valois  from  Hugues  Capet.  Those  who 
■wished  to  supjiort  the  latter  house  against  the  former  took 
their  name  from  Hugues  Capet.  The  Guises  gave  it  to 
them  in  reproach  ;  they  accepted  it  as  an  honour.*  This 
origin  of  the  term  agrees  with  the  character  of  those  Avho 
acted  with  the  Protestants  from  political  motives,  but  names 
defy  all  laws  of  logic.  The  commotion  at  Amboise  more 
completely  fixes  the  term  upon  all  the  party  that  resisted 
the  house  of  Lorraine.  The  rallying  cry  of  the  King  of 
Navarre,  while  he  remained  a  Huguenot,  was,  "  Christ  and 
Capet." 

And  now  we  have  to  deal  with  but  two  great  parties,  who 
are  deciding  the  destinies  of  France.  On  the  one  side  are 
able  statesmen,  keen  dii)lomatists,  veteran  warriors,  clever 
lawyers,  the  masses  which  throng  the  Romish  churches,  the 
array  of  clergy  of  all  ranks — from  the  mere  lad  with  a 
shaven  crown  and  a  benefice,  to  the  archbishop  and  cardi- 
nal whose  rich  livings  are  reckoned  by  the  dozen — the  bril- 
liant assemblage  of  courtieie,  a  cabinet  in  which  genius  and 
ambition  are  rivals  for  glory,  and  one  woman  whose  con- 

*  In  the  Histoire  tlu  Tumult  d'Amboise,  I  find  this:  "They  (the 
Guises)  have  conj posed  a  sobriquet  at  pleasure,  par  derision  de  ceux 
qu'ils  disent  eMre  de.scendus  de  la  race  ditdict  Ilugue  Capet,  les  appellans 
Hufjuenotz,  thus  reproaching  not  only  the  loyal  jjcojile,  but  also  the 
king  and  ail  the  princes  of  the  blood."  I  have  already  quoted  from 
tlie  Cowplainte  an  Penple  Fran^ais,  a  phrase  in  which  the  word  is 
used  still  earlier  than  the  end  of  "the  Tumult,"  and  applied  so  widely 
as  to  include  the  king,  the  princes  of  the  blood  and  all  malcontents^ 
political  and  religious.  In  France,  as  at  Geneva,  the  name  was  first 
applied  to  the  liberty  party  ;  later  it  was  limited  to  the  Protestants. 

Tills  fact  destroys  the  claim  of  those  who  would  derive  it  from  such 
words  as  Imr/uenote,  a  little  stone,  or  a  small  coin.  Moiitluo,  an  au- 
thor and  warrior  of  Coligny's  own  day,  says  of  the  Huguenots,  "They 
were  so  called,  I  know  not  why." — Commentaires  de  Montluc. 


TWO    GREAT    PARTIES.  187 

Bummate  art  and  unquenchable  thirst  for  power  make  her 
name  still  to  blaze  iu  history.  And  behind  these  stands  a 
reserve  force — a  confederacy,  whose  clear  head  is  at  Rome 
and  grasping  hand  in  Spain,  and  whose  policy  will  turn  to 
account  the  wiles  of  statesmanship  and  the  passions  of  the 
vulgar. 

On  the  other  side  appear  a  company  under  tlic  ban  ;  a 
crowd  of  malcontents  scarcely  possible  to  be  organized ;  a 
despised  sect,  whose  preachers  deliver  their  message  in  one 
corner  and  then  hasten  for  life  into  another,  or  wander 
along  by-roads  as  hawkers  of  tracts,  flinging  them  into 
cottage  and  hall  as  they  find  the  chance ;  a  persecuted 
Church  whose  members  look  one  another  in  the  face  and 
wonder  which  will  go  first  to  the  dungeon  or  the  stake;  and 
yet  there  are  with  them  princes  of  royal  blood,  nobles 
of  high  degree,  chiefs  in  their  castles,  gentlemen  who  can 
muster  each  his  hundred  men  on  a  day's  notice,  captains 
trieil  in  war,  soldiers  who  boast  of  their  part  in  the  famous 
battles,  and  a  people  who  can  pray;  there  are  conscience, 
faith  and  God  ;  there  are  the  convictions  of  truth,  the  fidel- 
ities of  an  honest  yeomanry,  the  sagacity  of  statesmen,  the 
buoyant  energies  of  youth,  the  enthusiasm  felt  in  a  new  en- 
terprise; and  along  with  all  these  there  is  one  quiet  woman 
at  Chatillou  whose  patriotism  will  start  from  inactivity  a 
tremendous  force ;  and  there  is  in  Navarre  one  other  heroic 
woman  who  may  suffer  long  her  husband's  baseness,  but  may 
yet  nuike  her  mountains  glorious  in  battle-scenes  when  she 
leads  her  hosts  into  the  war  for  liberty  and  religion. 

The  clash  will  come  yet  more  furiously  between  the  peo- 
ple and  the  crown,  between  Rome  and  Geneva,  between 
]ni})ist  and  Huguenot,  when  it  will  be  seen  whether  the  in- 
quirer shall  be  crushed  by  the  inquisitor,  and  the  Guise 
triumph  over  the  Coligny. 

These  sharp  conflicts  were  to  be  the  school  for  the  gradual 


188  ADMir.AT>    COLIGNY. 

development  of  a  cliaractcr  peculiarly  new  and  admirable — 
one  never  before  in  the  world,  and  the  like  of  which  has 
never  since  been  seen,  unless  we  reckon  in  the  same  class 
the  Puritan  of  Cromwell's  day.  It  was  that  of  the  genuine 
Huguenot.  Let  us  anticipate  him,  for  his  make  and  man- 
ner of  man  are  being  determined  by  the  hard  training 
which  he  receives.  He  grew  up,  as  the  tender  plant,  from 
the  earth  often  covered  with  snows,  trodden  over  by  deso- 
lating troops,  and  fattened  with  human  blood.  The  acorn 
was  Calvinism ;  the  oak  was  the  Huguenot.*  The  model 
was  Coligny,  after  whose  pattern  few  men  were  moulded 
during  the  life  of  Conde.  It  was  after  the  revived  cry  of 
"Capet"  had  died  away,  after  the  ambition  for  political 
power  had  often  defeated  the  great  Protestant  party,  after 
its  chief  aim  had  become  religious  liliorty,  and  after  all 
eflbrts  had  been  mainly  concentrated  upon  the  one  point  of 
securing  a  free  conscience  and  a  free  worship,  that  the  real 
Huguenot  appeared,  puritied  by  the  march  t)irough  the 
iron  furnace. 

He  was  a  soldier,  with  the  Testament  in  his  knapsack- 
the  Psalms  on  his  lips,  the  name  of  Jehovah  on  his  banner, 
the  altar  of  God  in  his  tent,  the  conviction  of  the  Divine 
Presence  ever  with  him  on  the  field,  and  the  vision  of  a  lib- 
erated France  ever  before  his  eye.  The  enemies  before  him 
were  in  his  view  the  enemies  of  God — Philistines,  Moabites, 
the  invading  hosts  of  Sennacherib — and,  as  they  had  begun 
each  new  war  for  their  papal  idolatries,  he  might  defend 
his  holy  religion  and  fire  each  shot  with  a  prayer,  and  see 
with  thanksgiving  a  routed  foe.  He  rushed  to  the  charge 
without  fear  ;  he  cut  right  and  left  with  unsparing  severity; 
he  made  it  his  work  until  the  order  was  given  to  desist. 
He  held  sacred  every  truce  and  treaty.     He  had  mercy  for 

*  Tliere  is  certainly  no  historic  connection  between  tlie  Vaudois  and 
Ihe  IIiicruGnots. 


'nVO    GREAT    PARTIES.  189 

the  prisoner,  the  wounded  and  the  dying.  He  forgave  as 
generously  as  he  had  fought  grievously.  He  boasted  not 
of  his  own  valour  if  he  was  the  conqueror;  he  had  no 
<lesi):iir  if  he  was  vanquished.  He  murmured  not  if  he 
must  die  for  Christ  and  for  country.  Commending  to  God 
his  dependent  })arcnts,  or  his  wife  and  little  ones,  he  closed 
his  eyes,  gave  up  his  soul,  and  expected  the  foe  to  rifle  his 
coat,  send  his  armour  as  a  trophy  to  the  papal  Leaguers  and 
leave  his  body  for  the  eagles  and  his  bones  to  bleach  under 
a  sun  that  might  yet  shine  upon  a  liberated  kingdom.  It 
was  for  the  defence  of  religion  that  he  gave  himself  a 
sacrifice. 

"Honest  as  a  Huguenot"  was  the  proverb  coined  in  his 
honour,  and  made  current  through  long  generations.  As  a 
neighbour,  he  was  just  and  truthful ;  as  a  civilian,  rare  in 
his  integrity  and  observance  of  law;  as  an  artisan  or  a 
tradesman,  he  attended  to  his  own  affairs,  and  his  goods 
hail  their  value  upon  their  very  face;  as  an  oflicial,  he 
could  be  trusted  with  untold  gold,  and  happy  was  the  Pha- 
raoh who  had  such  a  Joseph  at  court.  When  Romanist 
noble  or  king  wished  for  an  honest  man,  to  whom  he  could 
entrust  life  and  property,  he  drew  into  his  service  a  PIu- 
guenot.  Even  Charles  IX.  retained,  to  the  last  hour  of  his 
life,  the  old  Huguenot  nurse  who  had  rocked  his  cradle,  and 
he  would  have  no  other  physician  than  Ambrose  Par6,  the 
chosen  surgeon  of  his  grandfather.  Among  all  the  Italian 
poisoners,  Catherine  knew  that  her  children  were  safe  when 
such  a  man  dealt  out  the  medicines.  And  she,  too,  must 
have  her  Huguenot  ladies  to  succeed  the  trustworthy  Mad- 
ame de  Chatilhm  and  ]Madame  de  Ivoye.  She  long  felt 
safest  when  Coligny  was  at  the  court.  Tliis  compliment  to 
Huguenot  integrity  was  paid  everywhere,  down  to  the  latest 
times. 

The  man  of  this  stamp  liated  Kome.     She  was  to  him 


190  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

the  mother  of  abominations.  She  deluded  souls  by  her 
harlotries ;  she  robbed  them  at  her  masses  and  confession- 
boxes.  She  drove  the  sheep  into  her  folds,  and  fleeced  them 
with  barbarous  shears.  And  he  well  knew  her  false  system, 
for  his  father  had  once  been  mired  in  the  depths  and  steeped 
to  the  very  eyes  in  her  idolatries.  He  knew  both  sides  of 
the  great  religious  questions  of  his  age.  He  exposed  the 
evils,  in  the  fireside  talk ;  he  drew  their  remedy  from  the 
Bible  upon  the  mantel-piece.  He  sometimes  went  beyond 
the  line  of  prudence,  for  he  showed  up  the  wretched  sins 
of  the  priests  to  their  blinded  parishioners,  or  even  bearded 
the  vicar  and  gave  him  irritating  sketches  of  the  papacy 
from  the  times  of  that  bad  woman  (as  he  thought).  Pope 
Joan.  He  sometimes  provoked  an  assault  upon  his  house 
or  a  bonfire  of  his  Protestant  books,  and  he  must  take  joy- 
fully the  spoiling  of  his  goods.  Even  in  times  of  peace  he 
lived  daily  waiting  for  an  arrest,  a  sham  trial,  an  imprison- 
ment or  banishment  to  the  galleys.  A  simple  denial  that 
he  was  a  full  believer  in  the  doctrines  of  Calvin,  or  a  silent 
attendance  upon  mass,  might  ensure  to  him  an  undisturbed 
life  with  his  family;  but  he  regarded  the  proposal  as  an 
insult,  and  nobly  held  fast  to  his  convictions. 

Henry  III.  had  some  feeble  appreciation  of  the  genius 
of  Bernard  de  Palissy,  the  famous  potter,  and  offered  to  set 
him  free  from  the  dungeons  of  the  Bastille  on  the  easy  con- 
dition of  giving  up  his  faith.  "  My  worthy  friend,"  said 
the  monarch,  "  you  have  now  been  forty-five  years  in  the 
service  of  my  mother  and  myself;  we  have  suffered  you  to 
retain  your  religion  amidst  fire  and  slaughter.  I  am  now 
so  pressed  by  the  Guises  and  my  peojile  that  I  find  myself 
compelled  to  deliver  you  into  the  hands  of  your  enemies, 
and  to-morrow  will  you  be  burnt  unless  you  are  converted." 

"Sire,"  answered  the  old  man,  "I  am  ready  to  give  up 
the  remainder  of  my  life  for  the  honour  of  God.    You  have 


TWO   GREAT   PARTIES.  191 

told  me  several  times  that  you  pity  me,  and  now  in  turn  I 
pity  you  who  use  the  words,  '  I  am  compelled.'  It  was  not 
spoken  like  a  king.  Sire ;  and  they  arc  words  which  neither 
you,  nor  the  Guises,  nor  the  people,  shall  ever  make  me 
utter.  8ire,  I  can  die."  By  continually  yielding,  the 
monarch  had  become  a  slave ;  by  continually  acting  up  to 
his  convictions,  the  potter  had  become  more  than  a  king. 

The  delight  of  the  genuine  Huguenot  was  the  preche — 
the  preaching.  Casaubon  thus  writes  in  his  journal :  "  The 
cold  and  other  difficulties  have  deprived  us  from  attending 
the  holy  word.  Oh,  how  can  we  pass  a  day  without  this 
benefit!  .  .  .  Again  the  severe  winter  shuts  us  in  at  home. 
Pardon  us,  O  Lord !  ...  At  length  God  favours  us ;  we 
have  shared  in  the  holy  mysteries.  .  .  .  We  all  went  to  the 
temple  (at  Charenton),  myself,  my  wife  and  a  party  of 
children,  and  our  joy  was  incredible."*  To  such  a  man 
the  pastor  was  the  ambassador  of  God,  respected,  loved 
and  followed  as  the  shepherd  of  the  flock.  For  mere  art 
the  Huguenot  cared  little ;  if  statues  were  idols,  he  was 
ready  to  grind  them  to  powder.  He  believed  in  the  first 
and  second  commandments.  Because  he  was  not  senti- 
mental he  has  been  described  as  severe;  because  he 
thought  more  of  true  doctrine  than  of  mere  ornament — 
more  of  the  reality  than  of  the  outward  beauty  of  worship 
— more  of  communion  with  God  than  of  social  customs  and 
amusements — he  has  been  charged  with  austerity,  rigorous 
gravity,  and  a  stern  manner  of  devotion.  But  his  was  not 
the  school  for  the  cultivation  of  the  softer  poetic  sentiments. 
His  piety  was  not  rose-coloured,  nor  fragrant  of  mignon- 
ette. It  was  oaken,  the  pure  stuff,  with  a  grain  of  its  own, 
and  unoiled  and  unvarnished.  It  was  solid  ;  perhaps 
rather  legal  than  spiritual.  It  had  in  it  a  conscience 
wliirh  no  man  could  liusli  with  bribes,  and  for  which  he 
*  KplK'iiK'r'ulos  de  Casaubon  ;   Hiilktin  du  Prot.  Fraiu'.,  iii.  4ul. 


192  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

was  ready  to  figlit.  Not  mere  joy  in  the  heart  of  man,  but 
peace  with  God,  Avas  the  thing  that  he  sought  while  a  pil- 
grim on  the  earth,  marching  to  heaven. 

Perhaps  the  crowning  glory  of  the  genuine  Huguenot 
was  the  order  and  worship  in  his  own  house.  We  saw  the 
model  in  the  castle  at  Chatillon.  His  sanctuary  was  the 
hearthstone.  There  the  father  was  the  chief,  the  patriarch, 
the  pastor,  the  high-priest.  IMorning  and  evening,  when  he 
was  not  away  in  the  wars,  he  read  and  explained  the  Bible. 
Time  was  given  for  meditation.  Children  were  taught  to 
be  silent  and  think,  to  ask  and  answer  questions,  to  repeat 
Psalms  and  recite  catechisms,  to  give  good  reasons  for  not 
being  papists,  and  to  state  clearly  why  they  were  Calvinists, 
They  joined  in  the  domestic  v&spers — the  loud  songs,  the 
stately  chants,  the  solemn  prayers.  The  wife  was  distin- 
guished by  her  fidelity,  the  daughters  by  modesty  and  the 
sons  by  a  serious  demeanour.  If  one  was  tempted  and  if 
virtue  was  lost,  the  rest  were  plunged  into  sadness ;  they 
fasted  and  prayed  for  the  divine  mercy.  Out  of  such 
households  arose  those  great  names — Mornay  and  Daille, 
Basnage  and  Saurin,  Claude  and  Drelincourt.  It  was  the 
last  who  said,  "  My  bed  of  health  and  of  rest  will  be  in 
heaven." 

Such  was  the  true  Huguenot,  growing  up  in  the  rough 
times  of  the  first  civil  wars  to  praise  God  for  the  edict  of 
Nantes,  and  to  bear  the  terrible  stroke  of  its  repeal.  It 
was  but  a  young  character  in  the  party  of  which  Coligny 
was  the  real  leader.  In  the  other  party  was  the  forming 
character  of  the  Leaguer  and  the  political  Jesuit.*  But 
this  digression  must  end. 

Catherine  de  Medici  saw  these  two  parties  growing  up 
from  their  infancy  into  giants.     More  than  ever  did  she 

*  Puaux  has  given  me  the  hint  for  the  attenij^ted  portrait  of  the 
Hiiffuenot. 


TWO    GREAT    I'ARTIES.  193 

wish  to  be  borne  aloft  on  the  shoulders  of  both.  She  was 
her  own  spy  in  the  Guisard  camp ;  she  must  now  have  a 
word  with  the  Huguenots.  She  sent  for  the  minister  Chan- 
dieu  to  come  and  make  known  the  causes  of  Protestant 
discontent,  and  to  suggest  the  means  of  peace.  But  Chan- 
dieu  w'as  not  in  Paris;  doubtless  he  was  away  upon  a  mis- 
sionary tour.  He  had  already  sent  a  paper  to  Catherine, 
and  it  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Lorraine,  who  asked, 
"  Why  do  you  put  yourself  in  connection  with  these 
rebels '?" 

"  I  do  it,  sir,"  slic  replied  with  much  si)irit,  "  to  get  at 
their  designs.  If  you  desire  it,  I  will  call  hither  Regnier 
de  la  Plauche,  a  Huguenot,  one  of  Marshal  Montmo- 
rency's confidants,  and  while  we  talk  about  Protestant  af- 
fairs you  can  be  hidden  behind  the  tapestries  and  listen  to 
your  own  satisfaction." 

The  cardinal  assented.  The  man  whom  she  called  was  a 
Parisian  gentleman,  a  strong  Calvinist,  who  was  an  orna- 
ment to  his  profession  of  faith — learned,  serious,  striking  his 
point  in  every  sentence  he  spoke,  at  home  in  theology,  and 
not  likely  to  lose  himself  in  the  windings  of  politics.*  "It 
is  a  rme  of  the  Guises,"  thought  he,  and  he  declined  to  ap- 
pear. Catherine  insisted,  begged  ;  now  persuaded,  now 
menaced.  At  length  he  came.  He  went  right  to  the  heart 
of  the  subject  at  ouce.  "There  are,  madame,"  said  he 
(the  tapestry  hiding  the  clerical  eavesdropper) — "  there  are 
among  the  Protestants  the  Huguenots  of  religion  and  the 
Huguenots  of  state  ;  the  first  demand  an  end  to  the  perse- 
cutions— the  second,  the  expulsion  of  the  Guises,  as  'strangers,' 
from  the  crown-councils.  You  yourself  have  an  interest  in 
keeping  them  within  just  bounds,  for  you  are  the  mother 
of  infant  princes."     The  wincing  cardinal  had  patience. 

*  He   is  the  reputed  author  of  a  Ilisfoire  de  TKUit  de  France  .  .  . 
sous  le  Regnede  Franyois  II.,  1571,  and  aduiired  for  liis  impartiality. 
Vol.  I.— 17 


194  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

"  It  is  unjust,"  replied  the  queen-mother,  "  to  speak  thus 
of  men  who  have  rendered  so  great  services  to  the  state. 
Is  it  astonishing  tliat  I  should  be  attached  to  princes  whom 
my  late  husband  esteemed  so  highly  ?"  Here  was  dust 
for  the  eyes  of  the  cardinal  which  his  veil  could  not 
exclude. 

"  Great  services,  indeed !  It  is  their  shrewd  policy  to 
report  everywhere  that  the  Amboise  affair  was  a  rebellion 
against  the  crown.     They  know  what  they  have  to  fear — " 

"  Enough  of  this.  Tell  me  what  you  know  about  the 
conspirators — those  still  in  our  hands." 

"Madame,  I  am  not  a  spy"  (did  the  curtains  rustle?); 
"  you  invited  me  to  tell  you  what  course  you  should  pursue 
in  regard  to  the  Guises — " 

"  Be  cautious  ;  you  are  at  court."  La  Planche  left  the 
room,  found  an  officer  waiting  for  him  and  went  to  prison. 

The  cardinal  dared  not  revenge  himself  upon  La  Planche. 
"  He  is  an  honest  fellow*,  after  all,"  said  he.  "  I  am  rather 
the  w'iser  for  his  blunt  words.  Inexperienced  in  court  mat- 
ters, he  knows  not  the  art  of  talking  voluminously  and  yet 
saying  nothing.  Let  him  go."  At  the  end  of  four  days 
the  candid  Huguenot  went  home  with  a  paragraph  for  his 
history.* 

Happy  for  France  if  there  had  been  a  John  Knox  then 
at  the  head  of  her  Reform !  a  man  bold  in  the  face  of 
royalty,  scathing  upon  usurpers,  reading  the  tendency  of 
political  schemes  so  that  he  could  utter  strange  prophecies, 
seizing  the  pen  and  scaring  his  enemies  into  their  retreats, 
taking  the  pulpit  and  making  the  very  walls  tremble — earn- 
est, pithy,  now  colloquial,  now  satirical,  often  coarse,  but 
always  to  the  point  and  always  successful.  By  his  addresses 
and  sermons  he  made  public  opinion,  roused  the  popular 

*  Haag,  France  Proteslante ;  Puaux,  Hist,  de  la  Reform.  M6- 
nioires  de  Castelnau. 


TM'O   GREAT   PARTIES.  196 

heart,  and  then  directed  tlie  public  will.*  In  France  no 
such  man  appeared.  Calvin  was  too  far  away  to  seize  just 
the  moment  for  a  victory.  There  wa.s  too  little  enlightened 
opinion.  There  was  much  to  inflame  men's  minds ;  little 
to  guide  them  into  calm  seas  of  prosperity.  There  was  spirit 
enough,  but  it  was  military,  rather  than  moral.  It  was  the 
call  to  arms,  rather  than  the  tearful  call  to  repentance.  It 
was  the  figiit  for  liberty,  rather  than  the  good  fight  of  faith. 
A  resistless  Knox  was  needed,  even  at  the  court  of  Conde. 

The  Admiral  Coligny  adopted  measures  more  in  harmony 
with  his  principles.  He  wished  for  honourable  peace  and 
her  more  glorious  triumphs.  He  believed  in  a  God  who 
could  bring  the  Guises  to  naught,  or  who  permitted  them 
to  rule  for  some  great  purpose.  He  was  in  communication 
with  Calvin,  who  persisted  in  restraining  the  Huguenots 
from  acts  of  war,  and  who,  snatching  up  the  pen  pointed  for 
"  to-morrow's  sermon,"  wrote,  "  Unless  I  had  interposed, 
many  districts  would  have  been  involved  in  a  dreadful  con- 
flagration. .  .  .  An  excess  of  confidence  has  turned  the 
heads  of  our  people.  For  in  opposition  to  what  we  have 
always  forbidden,  they  seize  uy)on  the  [Romish]  churches 
or  preach  in  public  places.  The  brethren  sent  by  us  make 
this  excuse,  that  they  are  dragged  forward  by  necessity,  as 
there  is  no  private  dwelling  capal)le  of  holding  four  thou- 
sand people.  .  .  .  The  events  of  futurity  are  in  the  hands 
of  God." 

Coligny  had  proved  to  the  court  that  his  grief  over  the 
late  plots  was  sincere.  He  and  Andelot  sought  to  be  dis- 
missed and  return  to  their  homes.  "  We  camiot  spare  you 
yet,"  said  Catherine,  who  had  caressetl  the  Chatillons  in 
order  to  annoy  the  Guises.     "  Why  do  you  wish  to  go?" 

"  If  I  had  no  more  to  do,"  said  Coligny,  "  than  to  retire 
and  pray  for  my  persecuted  brethren,  it  would  seem  enough 
*  Tytler,  Hist.  Scotland,  vol.  vii.  121. 


196  ADMIRAL    COLIGXY. 

for  the  rest  of  ray  life,  unless  the  present  edicts  be  annulled." 
Had  he  seen  a  copy  of  the  recent  instructions  to  the  pro- 
vincial governors?  Like  this  they  raH,  for  the  king's  let- 
ters are  still  in  existence:  "I  command  you  to  transport 
yourself  to  all  suspected  places,  and  learn  from  good  Catho- 
lics the  names  of  those  who  are  present  at  the  preachings ; 
to  seize  the  preachers  and  hang  them  without  form  of  trial 
by  the  provost-marshal ;  to  put  all  Huguenots  who  pub- 
licly avow  their  religion  into  the  hands  of  justice,  and  judge 
them  incontinently ;  if  the  assistants  at  such  meetings  be 
armed,  to  hang  or  cut  them  to  pieces  ;  and  in  regard  to  such 
as  shall  not  be  arrested,  the  king  leaves  it  to  your  discretion 
to  disfranchise  them,  confiscate  tlieir  property,  demolish 
their  houses,  and  fine  them  as  you  see  fit!"  Rapacious 
agents  would  see  fit  to  enrich  themselves  by  sparing  those 
■who  would  pay  largely  to  be  undisturbed,  and  by  robbing 
all  who  were  firm  in  the  faith. 

"  If  you  cannot  spare  me,"  said  Coligny,  "  you  must 
allow  me  to  plead  for  my  friends.  I  ask  that  ]\Iichael  de 
I'Hupital  be  appointed  chancellor  of  France,  in  place  of  the 
deceased  Olivier."  Catherine  was  not  quite  surprised.  He 
insisted ;  it  would  go  far  to  satisfy  the  disaffected  people. 
And  his  untold  hope  was  that  it  would  make  the  late  edicts 
as  good  as  a  dead  letter.  If  there  be  outrageous  laws, 
blessed  is  it  when  the  chief  of  all  lawyers  will  not  put  them 
in  force.  He  earnestly  pressed  his  suit.  She  would  think 
about  it,  and  she  did  think.  She  thought  that  she  saw  a 
new  means  of  dividing  and  reigning.  This  female  Machia- 
vel  wanted  to  overreach  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine.  She 
acted  cautiously,  and  again  summoned  Coligny  to  break  to 
him  the  result. 

"  I  have  at  last  gained  the  point  which  you  so  strongly 
urged,"  said  Catherine,  "and  De  I'Hupital  is  appointed 
chancellor.     It  has  been  granted  to  silence  my  pertinacity." 


TWO    GREAT    PARTIES.  197 

"The  ministry,  then,  have  concluded  that  he  ^Yas  not 
engaged  in  the  plot  of  Amboise?" 

"  No  more  than  I  was,*  or  your  uncle  Montmorency,  for 
you  know  we  have  all  been  suspected.  De  I'llopital  will  be- 
friend you  and  your  brethren,  especially  if  his  wife  be  a 
Huguenot." 

We  covet  space  for  a  full  portrait  of  the  character  of 
this  man,  whom  Brantome  calls  "  the  greatest  chancellor, 
the  most  learned,  the  most  dignified  and  the  most  beloved 
ever  known  to  France." 

This  man,  providentially  raised  up  for  a  crisis,  was  the 
son  of  a  i)]iysician  in  Auvergne,  and  born  about  the  year 
1505.  His  father  Avas  suspected  of  a  share  in  the  treason 
of  the  Constable  Bourbon,  and  young  Michael  had  to  suffer 
for  it.  While  studying  law  at  Toulouse,  he  was  thrown 
into  prison,  where  he  learned  to  have  compassion  for  those 
of  a  later  day,  who  w^ere  in  deeper  dungeons  for  heresy. 
Proved  innocent,  he  was  released  and  joined  his  father  at 
IMilan.  Still  in  danger  of  arrest  in  a  foreign  land,  he  dis- 
guised himself  as  a  muleteer  and  went  to  Padua.  There 
he  took  up  the  law  again.  After  various  travels  and  a  re- 
turn to  France,  he  laid  aside  the  i*obes  of  an  advocate  and 
fre([uontod  the  court.  He  rose  upon  liis  merits.  Important 
missions  were  entrusted  to  him.  He  was  sent  to  a  council 
at  Cologne,  held  for  the  reform  of  abuses  in  the  Church, 
and  got  a  deeper  insight  into  the  errors  of  Rome.  In  all 
his  offices,  as  treasurer,  councillor,  envoy,  superintendent, 
he  sought  only  to  do  well  his  duty  and  be  just  to  all  men. 
Others  grew  rich  by  public  plunder;  he  had  not  always  the 

*  Tlic  historians  report  tlie  siisi)icioiis  tlien  fiirreiit,  tliat  f'atlierine 
W.1S  somewluit  involved  in  the  sclienic.  Slie  would  not  h;ive  objected 
to  the  rescue  of  her  son  from  tlie  Ciuises.  She  had  urged  Montmo- 
rency to  bring  forward  Antony  Navarre  to  supplant  them,  and  yet  she 
had  assented  to  their  appointment. — Bmjle. 
17  » 


198  ADMIRAL    COLTGXY. 

bread  for  the  morrow.  Laborious,  grave,  plillosopliic,  he 
was  still  a  poet;  courageous,  firm,  lunnanc,  he  was  to  go 
forward  and  remove  some  of  the  obstacles  to  free  thought 
and  worship.  As  a  young  magistrate  he  was  a  severe 
censor  of  the  abuses  in  the  magistracy.  One  of  these 
abuses  was  the  injustice  shown  in  the  pretended  trial  of 
those  accused  of  heresy ;  against  this  he  revolted,  and  still 
the  very  chief  of  persecutors  respected  him.  Chancellor 
Olivier  loved  him  as  a  son.  Catherine  de  Medici  saw  in 
him  a  man  who,  without  having  a  price,  would  counteract 
the  power  of  the  Lorraines.  The  cardinal  hoped  to  man- 
age him  if  he  must  be  made  chancellor  of  state,  for  he 
had  once  patronized  him.  What  a  juncture  of  aflflxirs ! 
Catherine  willing  to  do  well,  only  because  the  cardinal 
wished  to  do  ill. 

Bayle  says  the  Guises  hoped  "  he  would  do  all  they  had 
a  mind  to.  They  were  mistaken ;  for  he  had  laid  down  as 
his  maxim  the  good  of  tlie  kingdom  and  the  true  interests 
of  the  king,  his  master.  'Tis  true,  he  was  obliged  to  use  ad- 
dress, because  if  he  openly  opposed  the  designs  of  the  Guises, 
he  had  not  been  able  to  remedy  the  confusions  of  France. 
He  was  forced,  then,  to  swim  betwixt  two  streams,  and  by 
that  prudent  conduct  he  turned  off  some  storms  which 
threatened  the  kingdom,  and  found  means  to  do  good  ser- 
vice to  his  country  as  much  as  the  miserable  condition  of 
the  times  would  permit  him.  .  .  .  There  is  no  doubt  but 
that  if  he  had  l)een  sole  manager  of  these  things  he  would 
have  procured  a  full  toleration  for  the  Protestants."  One 
of  his  fre(pient  sayings  to  those  who  were  alarmed  at  the 
evils  of  the  day,  was,  "Patience,  patience;  all  will  go  well." 
His  wife  was  Mary  Morin,  a  daughter  of  the  lieutenant- 
criminal* — the  same  man  who  had  almost  seized  young 

*  Homme  sans  Dieu  ne  conscience,  lequel  ayant  fait  mourin  tant  de 
fideles. — Memoires  de  Conde,  xiy. 


TWO    GKEAT    PARTIES.  109 

Calvin,  wlicn  lie  escaped  from  Ills  college  window  and  fled 
from  Paris.  Calvin  must  have  been  pleased  to  know  that 
she  was  a  Protestant.  Nor  was  he  far  from  it.  Brantorae 
says,  "He  was  reckoned  a  Huguenot,  though  he  went  to 
mass ;  but  it  was  said  at  court,  '  God  keep  us  from  the  mass 
of  Monsieur  de  rHopital.'"  This  was  hardly  true  of  him 
when  to  his  hands  was  first  entrusted  the  great  seal  of 
France.* 

"And  I  have  a  commission  for  you,  Monsieur  I'Admiral," 
said  Catherine — "  one  tliat  will  please  you.  Go  down 
among  your  favourite  Normans,  and  inquire  the  real  cause 
of  their  discontent;  their  commotions  are  alarming.  You 
have  great  influence  over  them,  for  they  are  nearly  all  your 
brethren  in  the  faith." 

Never  had  Coligny  gone  upon  a  more  delightful  mission. 
He  had  done  much  to  extend  the  gospel  in  Normandy, 
which  had  long  been  called  "  Little  Germany,"  on  account 
of  its  Protestantism.  He  found  his  brethren  meeting  by 
thousands  in  the  open  air  for  the  worship  of  God.  Even 
several  French  priests  were  secret  Calvinists.  "  What,"  he 
asked  of  the  wiser  men — "  what  are  the  causes  of  the  disaf- 
fection toward  the  government?  Why  are  the  Normans 
ready  to  spring  to  arms  ?" 

"  They  are  but  two,"  was  the  reply.  "  The  first  is  the 
persecutions  waged  against  us  as  Protestants ;  the  second  is 
the  rigid  tyranny  of  tlie  king's  ministers.  We  cannot  sup- 
plicate our  king ;  the  Guises  deny  us  the  right  of  access 
and  of  petition." 

"  Draw  up  a  petition  to  his  majesty ;  I  will  have  it  pre- 
sented." The  admiral  sent  letters  to  Catherine,  in  which 
he  frankly  reported  the  causes  of  the  popular  disaffection, 

*  Nouvelles  Recherches  Historiqiies  Pur  la  Vie  et  les  Ouvrages  du 
Chancellor  de  I'Hopital ;  par  A.  II.  Taillandicr,  Paris,  1S61.  (Euvies 
de  Condorcet,  Eloge  sur  de  I'llMpital. 


200  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

and  strongly  urged  her  to  take  the  administration  of  affairs 
in  her  own  hands — advice  which  she  was  ready  enough  to 
follow. 

Not  yet  was  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  satisfied  with 
power  for  himself  and  for  Rome.  He  openly  made  another 
effort  to  establish  the  Spanish  mode  of  the  inquisition  in 
France.  The  late  conspiracy  had  proved  to  his  mind  the 
need  of  it.  The  Chancellor  de  I'Hopital  bravely  resisted  it. 
He  pointed  to  Spain  as  a  land  of  woe  on  account  of  this 
engine  of  tyranny.  It  would  cause  a  revolution.  No 
heroic  people  would  endure  it.  The  struggle  was  sharp, 
and  the  chancellor  saved  his  country  from  the  curse.  But 
he  was  obliged  to  compromise.  The  result  was  the  edict  of 
Romorantin,  named  from  the  town  whence  it  was  dated  in 
May,  1560.  By  it  all  heresies  were  to  be  judged  in  an  ec- 
clesiastical court ;  magistrates  and  parliaments  were  forbid- 
den to  meddle  with  the  subject.  The  principle  was  right, 
but  Roman  prelates  took  advantage  of  it. 

"  What  have  w^e  gained  ?"  asked  such  men  as  Coligny, 
who  saw  no  relief  in  the  new  edict.  "  We  are  still  in  the 
power  of  the  bishops ;  we  cannot  assemble  publicly  for  re- 
ligious worship  ;  if  we  meet  secretly,  we  shall  be  declared 
guilty  of  high  treason,  and  great  rewards  are  offered  to  all 
informers." 

"Patience!  all  will  l)e  well,"  replied  the  chancellor. 
"  We  have  staved  off"  the  inquisition  ;  this  is  something. 
AVe  have  dissatisfied  all  parties — Catholics,  Protestants, 
politicians  and  councillors — that  is  still  more.  We  have 
laid  down  a  great  stepping-stone  to  wider  toleration  ;  stand 
on  that  now,  and  the  next  one  will  be  higher  still,  and  thus 
we  may  go  on  until  we  rise  into  liberty  of  conscience." 
Two  important  measures  were  now  introduced  by  the  chan- 
cellor— one  for  the  State,  the  other  for  the  Church, 

The  chancellor  had  the  next  stone  ready.     Forty  years 


TAVO   GRKAT    PARTIES.  20 1 

luiJ  passed  since  France  had  bclicld  tlie  shadow  of  a  fair, 
full  representative  assembly  called  by  the  king.  Coligiiy 
had  asked  it ;  part  of  the  Amboise  scheme  was  to  demand 
it ;  the  whole  country  was  urging  an  assembly  of  the  states- 
general.  De  rilopital  said :  "  It  is  too  much  to  demand 
at  present — too  high  a  step  to  be  made — a  stone  or  two  first. 
Let  us  ask  for  an  assembly  of  the  notables." 

"Agreed,"  said  Coligny.  "I  shall  have  some  papers 
ready."  The  Guises  gave  their  assent,  thinking  to  remain 
masters  of  the  situation.  Letters-patent  were  sent  to  all 
the  ministers  of  the  crown,  the  princes  of  the  blood  and 
such  of  the  nobles  and  knights  as  were  illustrious  for  birth 
or  influence.  They  were  summoned  to  meet  on  the  twen- 
tieth of  August,  at  Fontainebleau. 

A  new  thing  was  seen  under  the  sun  of  France :  the 
king  was  surrounded  by  a  large  military  force  when  he 
came  to  the  palace  of  the  old  Fontaine  de  Belle  Eau. 
AVhy  such  troops?  Was  he  the  first  French  king  who 
feared  his  people?  Or  did  his  uncles  think  to  awe  the 
nobles  into  silence  ?  The  new  mode  added  no  new  star  to 
the  fame  of  the  Guises.  The  Duke  of  Guise  was  not  con- 
tent with  this  novelty ;  he  posted  troops  on  all  the  roads  in 
the  neighbourhood.  But  what  was  his  surprise  when  he 
saw  jNIontniorency  and  his  sons,  with  eight  hundred  gentle- 
men on  horseback,  filing  down  the  avenues  that  led  to  the 
castle!  Then  came  the  Colignys,  with  their  suite  and  nine 
huiulred  of  the  lesser  gentry.  But  the  Bourbon  princes  did 
not  aj)pcar.  De  Thou  tells  us  that  they  had  agreed  with 
Coligny  never  to  meet  at  the  same  place  with  him.  (^uitc 
likely  they  did  not  relish  his  speeches  and  his  moderation. 
Their  secret  enterprises  were  enough  to  render  it  imprudent 
for  them  to  attend.  The  assembly  opened.  The  chancellor 
hesitated  a  moment  in  his  long,  wearying  speech,  and  then 
waked  up  all  sluniberei's  by  saying,  "The  kingdom  is  sick  ; 


202  ADMIEAL   COLIGNY. 

it  must  be  cured.     There  are  divisipns  in  religion,  d'sorder 
in  the  provinces,  insubordination  everywhere.     So  i^ 

must  be  done  for  the  people."     This  was  quite  eno 
ponder  for  one  day,  together  with  the  call  of  the  Dr'       *" 
Guise  for  an  army  of  suppression,  and  his  brother's  sad 
report  of  a  lean  treasury.     Who  would  pay  the  soldiers? 

No  sooner  had  the  second  session  opened  than  Admiral 
Coligny  stepped  forward  to  the  throne  and,  bending  one 
knee,  presented  two  petitions  to  the  king;  then,  raising  his 
voice  so  that  all  might  hear  him,  he  said,  "that  having 
been  sent  into  Normandy  by  his  majesty's  orders,  to  inquire 
into  the  causes  of  the  troubles  in  that  province,  he  had 
found  that  the  first  and  main  reason  was  the  persecutions 
on  account  of  religion.  Great  numbers  in  that  part  of  the 
country,  professing  the  Ileformed  religion,  had  requested 
him  to  present  their  humble  petitions  to  the  king,  which  he 
now  did,  not  thinking  it  right  to  disappoint  the  wishes  of 
so  many  worthy  people."* 

All  present  were  astonished  at  such  boldness,  for  he  was 
running  into  the  face  of  death.  The  king  had  not  been 
taught  his  lesson  beforehand ;  he  therefore  received  the 
papers  and  ordered  them  to  be  read.  In  the  first  the  peti- 
tioners renounced  all  part  in  such  enterprises  as  that  of 
Amboise.  The  second  was  the  more  important ;  it  was 
headed,  "  The  supplication  of  the  faithful  in  sundry  prov- 
inces, who  call  on  the  name  of  God  and  desire  to  live 
according  to  the  true  rule  of  faith." 

All  ears  were  attentive  to  these  sentences:  " AVe  confess 
that  we  never  so  well  understood  our  duty  to  your  majesty 
as  since  we  have  learned  it  from  the  holy  doctrines  preached 
to  us.  .  .  .  Be  jileased  to  allow  us  templesf  of  our  own  in 

*  Vita  CoHnii ;  Lacratelle;  De  Tliou. 

t  The  term  used  by  tlie  Frencli  Protestants,  who  were  not  allowed 
to  call  their  houses  of  public  worship  "churches." 


TWO    GKEAT    TAUTIES.  203 

evert»'o;ty  jukJ  town,  according  to  our  number.^,  .so  that  we 
J  "Mnble  by  day,  hear  the  word  of  God,  offer  prayers 

'  state  and  receive  the  sacraments  as  ordained  by  our 
I  ../without  being  molested  by  those  who  know  not  the 
trutli  in  God.  .  .  .  Having  such  places,  if  we  meet  else- 
wliere,  hold  nightly  a.ssemblies,  or  do  anything  contrary  to 
the  public  peace,  we  are  content  to  be  punished  as  .sedi- 
tious and  rebellious.  .  .  .  If  it  be  desirable,  we  will  consent 
to  pay  larger  taxes  than  other  of  your  subjects,  in  order 
to  show  how  wrongfully  we  are  accused  of  a  wish  to  ex- 
empt ourselves  from  tribute."  Was  ever  anything  fairer 
oflered  ? 

"  The  petitions  are  not  signed,"  said  the  secretary.  Hasty 
men  were  ready  to  move  that  the  papers  be  destroyed  and 
the  admiral  punished  for  his  fraud. 

"  It  is  true,"  said  the  deliberate  Coligny,  "  they  bear  no 
names.  Therefore  I  at  first  refused  to  present  them.  But 
what  was  the  answer  of  the  people?  They  said,  'Gain  us 
but  leave  to  meet,  and  in  a  single  day  you  shall  have  fifty 
thousand  signatures!'" 

"  And  I,"  retorted  the  Duke  of  Guise,  "  will  find  one  hun- 
dred thousand  men,  whom  I  will  head,  who  will  sign  the 
contrary  with  their  own  blood !" 

At  these  words  there  was  no  small  stir  in  the  assembly. 
But  the  Guisards  could  not  have  their  own  way.  The  king 
requested  the  opinions  of  the  members  on  the  memorials. 
Two  prelates  were  present,  who  had  been  in  Eonie  and 
visited  Protestant  countries,  noting  the  differences  between 
them. 

Jean  Montluc  arose ;  all  were  silent  to  the  voice  of  the 
bishop  of  Valence,  as  he  said  :  "  The  doctrine,  Sire,  which 
so  many  of  your  subjects  have  embraced  is  not  the  hasty 
produce  of  three  or  four  short  days,  but  it  has  been  rij)en- 
ing  gradually  for  thirty  years.     It  is  preached  by  three  or 


204  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

four  hundred  ministers,  skilful  in  letters,  diligent  in  their 
calling,  of  modest,  gnive  and  holy  manners,  detesting  all 
vice,  hating  all  avarice,  willing  to  die  for  their  principles, 
and  ever  bearing  on  their  lips  the  blessed  name  of  Jesus 
Christ — a  name  of  sufficient  power  to  unseal  the  dullest  ear 
and  soften  the  hardest  heart.  These  preachers,  Sire,  having 
found  your  people  as  sheep  without  a  shepherd,  have  been 
received  with  joy  and  heard  with  eagerness." 

He  then  began  with  the  popes ;  showed  how  they  had 
turned  their  attention  to  war  and  broken  their  promises ; 
touched  upon  the  conduct  of  the  kings  and  officers  of  justice 
in  their  cruel  treatment  of  the  people ;  and  then  came  to 
the  bishops :  "  They  are,  for  the  most  part,  idle,  forgetful 
of  their  account  to  God,  devoted  to  the  collection  of  their 
revenues,  and  spending  them  in  vicious  and  scandalous  toys, 
so  that  while  the  flame  was  blazing  in  their  dioceses  more 
than  forty  bishops  at  a  time  have  been  idling  in  Paris. 
Sees  have  been  conferred  on  children  and  persons  utterly 
ignorant.  Priests  have  been  avaricious,  buying  their  offices 
and  doing  nothing.  Send  your  money  to  Rome,  and  you 
Avill  have  sent  back  to  you  any  number  of  them,  made  of 
barbers,  lacqueys  and  scullions,  all  gaping  for  a  benefice. 
.  .  .  These  are  the  excellent  methods  which  we  have  chosen 
to  promote  peace  and  unity  in  our  Church !" 

He  admitted  that  some  of  the  Huguenots  were  mere  poli- 
ticians, but  of  those  who  were  sincere  and  pious,  he  said, 
"  Look  to  their  lives  and  their  deaths  if  you  would  know 
their  motives.  Notice  their  zeal  to  find  the  one  true  way 
of  salvation  ;  and,  having  found  it,  they  set  all  else  at 
naught,  and  for  it  endure  all  loss  of  worldly  goods,  all 
deaths  by  the  most  excruciating  tortures.  Many  who 
would  never  have  heard  of  the  doctrine,  when  they  see  men 
die  for  it,  resolve  to  search  whether  it  be  good  or  bad  ;  and, 
having  so  searched,  are  prepared  to  die  for  it  themselves, 


TWO    GREAT    I'AliTIES.  205 

and  to  follow  in  the  train  of  tho.se  martyrs  who  have  gone 
before  them."  * 

He  suggested  two  means  of  resolving  the  difficulty.  One 
was  the  promotion  of  true  worship,  especially  at  court,  that 
it  might  be  an  examj)le  for  the  nation.  "Let  your  majesty 
see  that  the  Scriptures  be  everywhere  read  and  explained. 
Let  the  gospel  be  preached  daily  in  your  own  house,  so  that 
those  who  say  that  God's  holy  name  is  never  heard  there 
may  be  silenced."  He  then  turned  to  Catherine  and  Mary 
8tuart,  saying,  "  Pardon  me,  ladies,  if  I  entreat  you  to 
order  your  damsels  to  sing  no  more  foolish  songs,  but  the 
Psalms  of  David  and  spiritual  hymns;  and  remember  that 
the  eye  of  God  is  over  all  and  in  every  place,  but  he  looks 
graciously  where  his  name  is  praised."  The  other  remedy 
was  a  general,  free  council,  or,  if  the  pope  refused  it,  a 
national  assembly  of  the  clergy.  This  latter  measure  was 
boldly  advocated  by  Marillac,  Archbishop  of  Vienne,  who 
seemed  to  forget  all  edicts  against  free  speech,  and  spoke 
like  a  Luther:  "We  must  prepare  for  such  a  council.  We 
must  reform  ourselves.  We  must  fast  and  confess  our  sins. 
Both  factions  must  lay  down  their  arms."  A  great  change 
had  taken  place  since  Du  Bourg  had  suffered,  or  these  men 
would  have  gone  to  prison,  and  De  I'Hopital  with  them. 

The  Admiral  Coligny  was  emboldened  by  such  speeches. 
At  the  proper  time  he  rose  to  urge  again  the  prayer  of  the 
Normans.  He  complained  of  the  mode  in  which  the  young 
king  was  trained  by  his  guardians  and  surrounded  by  a 
large  military  force,  so  that  he  treated  his  subjects  as  ene- 
mies and  did  not  seek  to  live  in  their  hearts  and  affections. 
The  young  monarch  needed  a  better  mode  of  education. 

"  What!"  exclaimed  the  Duke  of  Guise,  with  his  usual 
insolence,  "does  the  king  need  tutors  and  governors?" 

*  Harangue  de  I'Evesqnc  de  Valence,  filling  twenty-two  crowded 
pages  in  the  M^moires  de  C'ond^. 
Vol.  I.— 18 


206  ADMIRAL   COLIGXY. 

"  He  has  them,"  was  the  spirited  reply,  "  in  his  advisers 
and  bodyguard.  The  Bishop  of  Valence  has  just  recom- 
mended a  more  liberal  training," 

"  Yes,  surround  him  with  heretics  and  your  Normans  will 
be  satisfied,"  said  the  duke.  "  But  we  want  no  such  innova- 
tions. For  my  part,  I  will  adhere  to  the  old  method,  what- 
ever a  thousand  councils  may  say.  The  king  is  already 
educated  in  the  practice  of  every  virtue,  and  besides,  if  he 
need  any  further  instruction,  his  mother  is  fully  competent 
to  the  task," 

The  admiral  still  had  hopes  of  Catherine,  and  yielded  to 
the  last  remark.  He  again  interceded  for  the  Protestants: 
"  Give  them  temples,  and  then  send  men  to  listen  at  their 
doors,  and  punish  them  if  they  utter  rebellious  sentiments ; 
give  them  liberty  of  conscience,  and  you  will  be  astonished 
at  their  loyalty  and  their  freedom  from  all  violence."  A 
fair  proposal. 

"  Is  it  reasonable,"  asked  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  "  that 
the  king  should  bend  to  these  people?  Let  them  bow  to 
him.  The  king  cannot  yield  to  them  without  the  risk  of 
being  everlastingly  damned !  Are  they  loyal  ?  Only  on 
condition  that  the  king  be  of  their  sect  or  approve  of  it.  I 
glory  in  their  hatred"  (and  then  aside)  ;  "  there  are  twenty- 
two  of  their  libels  against  me,  now  on  my  table,  and  I  shall 
preserve  them  with  great  care."  He  professed  to  pity  those 
who  had  gone  astray,  and  to  be  willing  to  lay  down  his  life 
to  win  them  back !  He  hoped  that  the  clergy  would  re- 
form. He  exhorted  the  bishops  to  report  all  abuses  to  the 
king,  but  he  was  careful  to  say,  "  We  need  no  general  coun- 
cil ;  let  the  bishops  have  their  proper  authority,  and  they 
will  correct  all  real  abuses."  He  denounced  the  petition 
as  "seditious,  impudent,  rash,  heretical  and  fanatical." 

"Who  has  made  it  sedition  for  a  suffering  people  to  pray 
their  king  for  relief?"  replied  Coligny  with  warmth.  "You 


TWO    GREAT    PARTIES.  207 

make  it  as  criiniiuil  a.s  for  tlioui  to  pray  to  God.  Verily, 
these  are  evil  times.  A  niaii  who  oH'ers  his  very  life  to  his 
country  must  not  ask  for  arrears  of  pay;  the  minister 
of  finance  calls  it  impudence,  and  threatens  to  han^r  him  ! 
A  good  Christian  must  not  beg  the  privilege  of  worshij)i)ing 
Ids  God  in  the  broad  light  of  day  ;  he  is  impudent,  and  he 
too  must  be  hanged!" 

"  Have  Ave  here  demanded  that  the  gibbet  be  erected  ?" 
asked  the  cardinal,  Avho  dared  not  betray  the  Avound  that 
he  had  received. 

"  It  is  not  necessary,"  replied  Coligny.  "  The  gibbet  is 
raised  already.  Hundreds  are  to-day  being  hung,  because 
certain  men  have  judged  them  to  be  impudent,  seditious 
and  heretical."  * 

The  dispute  grew  so  warm  that  the  king  called  for  order. 
Quiet  was  not  easily  restored.  Coligny  was  supported  by 
a  host  which  alarmed  his  foes.  If  there  had  remained  one 
tie  of  the  old  friendship  between  him  and  the  Duke  of  Guise, 
it  was  now  completely  severed.  "  One  of  the  strongest  bands 
which  served  still  to  hold  together  the  distracted  kingdom 
was  ruptured  in  a  moment,"  says  La  Place.  We  saw  it 
broken  three  years  before.  The  Guises  were  defeated,  but 
not  conijuered  ;  they  had  another  scheme  on  their  table. 
The  four  most  liberal-minded  men  in  the  assembly — Mont- 
luc,  Mai'illac,  De  I'Hdpitaland  Coligny — gained  their  chief 

*  Vita  Coliiiii ;  Perau,  Viesde  Coligny,  de  Card.  Lorraine,  de  Guise. 

The  charge  of  inipndcnee  might  not  lie  ngainst  the  Huguenots  alone. 
When  Blaise  Montlue  entreated  the  Gascons  to  obey  the  king,  they 
haughtily  replied,  "What  king?  We  are  the  king?  The  one  you 
mention  is  a  baby-king.  We  will  give  him  the  rod,  and  teach  him 
to  earn  his  living  like  other  people."  The  Guisards  were  quite  as 
BeditioHs,  ever  ready  to  sliake  llieir  fists  in  the  king's  face.  No  royal 
edict  was  generally  regarded  as  a  law  ;  they  who  pleased  set  it  at  de- 
fiance. Almost  every  man  kept  the  liabms  corpus  in  his  own  hands. 
Convenience  was  the  usual  measure  of  loyalty. 


208  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

(jbjeet.  It  was  tlio  distribution  of  power,  tlie  acl<nowle(lg- 
ment  of  the  people's  riglit  to  be  heard,  and  a  footing  laid 
for  freer  discussion.  The  States-general  (nobles,  clergy  and 
commons)  should  meet  in  December  at  Orleans,  and  steps 
were  taken  for  a  religious  conference  at  Poissy.  These 
were  great  achievements. 

There  was  new  work  now  for  the  Guises.  They  must 
first  entice  the  Bourbon  princes  to  the  court ;  then  they 
must  destroy  everybody  who  was  dangerous  to  themselves. 
"  I  can  set  the  snare,"  said  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine.  "Let 
the  king  send  a  kind  invitation  to  Navarre  for  the  princes 
to  visit  the  court  and  attend  the  national  assembly." 

"  Well  devised,"  said  his  brother.  "  The  Coimt  de  Crus- 
sol  is  just  enough  of  a  Huguenot  to  carry  it,  with  secret  in- 
structions." This  was  but  three  days  after  the  adjournment 
of  the  council  at  Fontainebleau.  The  messenger  departed. 
But  Coligny  heard  of  it.  AVas  it  through  Madame  Crussol, 
a  lady  of  honour  to  Queen  Catherine  ?  She  was  an  inquirer 
for  the  true  religion,  of  whom  good  reports  soon  reached 
Calvin.  Coligny  asked  his  sister,  Madame  de  Roye,  to  give 
Avarning  to  the  prince,  her  son-in-law,  and  say  that  he  must 
be  prepared  to  justify  himself  at  the  next  assembly,  if  he 
should  resolve  to  attend. 

"I  have  a  rat-trap*  for  the  whole  of  them,"  said  the  car- 
dinal, as  if  a  massacre  were  a  huge  joke.  "  Here  is  an  old 
formula  of  faith  drawn  up  by  the  Sorbonne  in  1542,  which 
needs  to  be  revived  by  bathing  it  in  blood.  It  requires 
that  every  person  shall  hold  the  great  doctrines  of  the 
Church,  such  as  the  mass,  Virgin  Mary — " 

"  Never  mind  the  doctrines,"  said  the  duke.  "  I  am  no 
theologian ;  my  business,  as  a  warrior,  is  to  see  them  obeyed. 
How  will  you  set  your  trap  ?" 

*  Adding  burlesque  to  atrocity,  lie  called  his  measure  "the  rat-lrap 
for  the  Huguenots." — De  Felice. 


TWO   GREAT    PARTIES.  209 

"It  must  be  signed  l)y  the  king,  the  whole  court,  the 
officers  of  state,  tlie  nobility,  the  knights,  the  clergy  and 
everybody,  down  as  far  as  we  choose  to  go.  Each  must 
take  oath  to  observe  it,  and  to  treat  as  an  enemy  every  one 
who  does  not  sign  it,  without  regard  to  father,  mother,  wife, 
brother,  sister,  relative  or  friend.  Those  who  refuse  to  take 
this  oath  sluill  forfeit  all  offices,  honours,  estates  and  even 
life,  without  more  than  one  day  of  mercy."* 

"This  will  thin  out  the  court  amazingly,"  said  tlie  duke. 
"It  will  swoop  the  country  clean  of  the  rabble  who  live  like 
the  Gcnevose." 

"  It  will  catch  the  Colignys,  for  whom  it  is  particularly 
revived,"  replied  Lorraine.  "The  admiral  must  be  got  out 
of  the  way,  before  another  chance  is  had  for  him  to  drag  in 
his  petitions  and  to  work  on  the  mind  of  a  king  who  does 
not  know  enough  to  let  his  ministers  keep  him  from  blun- 
ders. We  might  even  dispense  with  his  brother  Odet,  for 
he  is  too  honest  for  our  use,  if  he  be  not  a  raving  Huguenot 
by  this  time.  They  will,  of  course,  refuse  to  sign  it,  and 
then  we  will  teach  them  the  cost  of  being  a  heretic."  The 
malice  is  apparent. 

"  Set  the  trap,"  added  the  duke,  "  and  I  will  send  out 
marshals  and  troops  to  scour  the  provinces  and  drive  the 
rebels  into  it,  or  make  spoil  of  those  who  will  not  be  driven. 
Your  treasury  is  low ;  expect  a  full  stream  to  pour  into  it." 
This  greed  of  gain  was  one  of  the  motives  in  the  great  per- 
secutions. 

"  We  must  have  money  before  the  spoils  come  in,"  said 
the  cardinal.  "  The  clergy  must  raise  it,  fur  they  are 
deeply  interested  in  the  measure.     If  this  source  fail,  your 

*  This  formula  rc(iuireil  that  if  any  one  refusing  to  sign  it  sliould 
be  panloneil,  ho  slioiilil  thereafter  wear  a  roljo  of  those  colours  adopted 
by  the  Spanish  In(|uisition  to  mark  its  criminals,  and  thus  be  spotted 
with  perpetual  infamy. 
18  « 


210  ADMIPvAL    COLIGNY.   ' 

armies  will  seize  upon  the  treasures  of  churches,  and  with- 
out scruple  convert  relics,  crosses,  silver  candlesticks,  and 
even  chalices,  into  French  crowns."  Religion  was  not  a 
leading  motive. 

Such  was  the  conspiracy  of  the  Guises  and  the  Guisards.* 
The  Bourbon  princes  were  to  be  the  first  victims,  then  Co- 
ligny  and  Andelot,  then  the  Protestant  nobility  and  people, 
until  the  extermination  of  "heresy"  was  complete.  A 
prison  was  already  chosen  for  the  Prince  of  Conde  in  Oi- 
leans  ;  and  one  of  its  towers  was  named  "  the  Admiral,"  by 
anticipation.  The  formula  was  to  be  offered  for  signatures 
on  the  next  Christmas — a  document  which,  De  Serres  de- 
clares, "  no  man  of  the  religion  would  for  a  thousand  livres 
have  approved  or  signed." 

But  w^e  must  overtake  the  Count  of  Crussol,  who  was,  no 
doubt,  ignorant  of  evil  schemes.  He  gave  to  the  King  of 
Navarre  the  letter  of  Francis  II.,  addressed  to  "  Mon 
Oncle,"  and  declaring  that  he  had  not  believed  the  Bour- 
bon princes  guilty  in  the  aflair  of  Amboise,  for  he  loved 
them  too  well ;  but  lately  his  ears  were  filled  with  bad 
reports  about  the  Prince  of  Conde,  and  he  wished  to  give 
him  an  opportunity  to  clear  himself  of  such  charges. 
"Therefore,  mon  oncle,  in  whom  I  have  perfect  confidence, 
please  bring  him  to  me  yourself — a  matter  which  I  Avould 
trust  to  no  one  else.  I  shall  be  happy  to  find  him  inno- 
cent. .  .  .  But  I  assure  you  that,  if  he  refuses  to  obey  me, 
I  shall  let  him  understand  that  I  am  king."f 

Tliis  half-threatening  invitation  caused  no  little  excite- 
ment at  Nerac.  "  Do  not  move  an  inch  in  that  direction," 
said  Queen  Jeanne,  "  or  you  are  ruined." 

"If  you  do  not  go,"  whispered  Crussol  aside,  "you  are 
most  certain  of  ruin.     A  Flemish  army  will  be  sent  down 

*  "  La  faction  des  Guisards." — Benoit,  Edit,  de  Nantea. 
t  Given  in  M^m.  de  Cond^. 


TWO    GREAT    PARTIES.  211 

to  attack  you  on  one  side,  and  Philip  of  Spain  engages  to 
march  upon  you  on  the  other."  A  secret  agent  had  been 
sent  to  Philip  II.  to  carry  out  this  part  of  the  programme. 

Still  the  ])rinces  hesitated.  Then  came  letters  from  the 
court  assuring  them  "that  no  harm  should  happen."  Cunde 
■was  warned  from  all  (juarters.  His  wife  wrote  from  the 
court :  "  Every  step  you  take  will  bring  you  nearer  to  de- 
struction. If  war  is  made  upon  you,  it  is  better  for  you  to 
die  gloriously  at  the  head  of  an  army  than  to  perish  in 
shame  upon  a  scaffold."  Beza  entreated  him  not  to  go. 
Queen  Jeanne  begged  him  with  tears  to  remain,  saying, 
"It  is  your  saK-ation  to  stay  here;  but,  if  you  will  depart, 
march  with  a  force  that  will  compel  the  Lorraines  to  respect 
the  august  blood  of  Bourbon." 

"There  is  no  risk,"  argued  Conde,  until  the  proofs  of 
danger  could  not  be  denied.  Then  he  generously  declared: 
"  The  staking  of  my  life  is  of  little  moment.  I  must  save 
my  brother  from  losing  his  kingdom;  and  therefore  will  go 
to  the  national  assembly,  for  which  I  have  so  often  made 
request."  Certain  of  the  Huguenots  made  splendid  offers 
of  support,  not  aware  of  the  plots  against  themselves. 
Calvin  protested  against  the  prince's  departure.  It  was  in 
vain.  Antony  was  too  timid  to  remain  at  home ;  Cond6 
was  too  brave  to  decline.  They  started  for  Orleans.  On 
the  slow  journey  they  were  met  by  prominent  Huguenots, 
who  entreated  them  to  turn  back ;  and,  when  they  refused, 
these  gentlemen  offered  large  bodies  of  troops  for  their 
defence.  ^Messengers  came  with  fresh  warnings ;  perhaps 
Catherine  secretly  sent  the  word,  "  It  will  be  death  to 
appear  at  court."  Antony  grew  faint-hearted,  but  Cond^ 
pushed  forward,  and  with  a  large  force  of  soldiers  they 
reached  Orleans  the  last  day  of  October. 

The  gates  were  barred  and  the  walls  guarded,  as  if  a  foe 
were  coming.      As  they  rode  through   the  streets  to  the 


212  ADMIRAL    COI.IGNY. 

castle,  a  double  line  of  soldiers  gazed  on  the  Bourbon 
princes.  They  demanded  their  right  to  enter  the  court- 
yard on  horseback,  but  they  were  compelled  to  alight  and 
enter  through  a  wickct-gate.  It  must  have  reminded  them 
of  their  former  icy  reception  by  the  court  at  Saint  Germain. 
.Catherine  shrieked  when  they  were  led  into  her  presence, 
and  "shed  crocodile  tears,"  says  La  Planche.  The  king 
said  to  Conde,  "  You  are  accused  of  treason,  and  must 
answer  for  yourself."  Was  not  the  accuser  a  worse  traitor 
toward  him  ? 

"I  am  ready  to  prove  my  innocence,"  replied  the  prince, 
with  self-possession.  He  then  flung  back  the  charge  of 
treason  upon  his  accusers. 

"  If  you  wish  to  be  heard  in  your  own  defence,  we  will 
proceed  according  to  the  forms  of  law,"  said  the  king,  who 
turned  to  his  captains  and  ordered  Conde  to  be  arrested. 
On  his  way  to  prison  he  met  his  brother,  the  Cardinal  of 
Bourbon,  a  courtier  as  weak  as  his  shadow,  and  said : 
"Very  well,  sir;  with  your  fine  assurances  you  have  led 
your  brother  to  the  scaffold  !"  The  cardinal  only  answered 
with  his  tears. 

"  Will  you  want  your  horse?"  asked  his  page,  when  they 
reached  the  gate.  The  prince  replied,  "  I  shall  never  want 
him  more." 

The  prison  had  been  put  in  order  weeks  before;  the  brave 
prince  entered  it,  and  was  denied  all  communication  with 
his  regal  brother,  and  even  his  wife,  except  attended  with 
witnesses.  His  mother-in-law,  Madame  de  Roye,  was  also 
arrested  at  her  house  in  Anicy,  thrust  into  prison  and  her 
papers  and  letters  brought  to  court. 

Andelot  had  retired  to  his  estates,  whence  he  might 
escape  to  England,  if  danger  followed  him.  The  aged 
Montmorency  took  alarm  and  feigned  illness.  But  Co- 
ligny,  now  at  Chatillon  awaiting  an  heir,  bade  farewell  to 


TWO    GREAT    PARTIES.  '  213 

his  heroic  wifo,  as  if  he  might  never  see  liis  family  ajrain. 
"Have  tlie  child  bajjlizcd,"  said  lie,  "by  the  true  niiiii.'^ter.s 
of  the  Word."  Odet  joined  him.  They  were  cordially 
received  by  Catherine,  who  wished  to  set  them  against  the 
Guises,  The  admiral  felt  that  he  was  needed  to  intercede 
for  the  prince.  He  boldly  used  every  possible  means,  being 
urgent  night  and  day.  The  wife  of  Conde  "  was  day  and 
night  before  his  majesty,  with  abundant  tears,  entreating  to 
see  and  speak  to  her  husband  ;"  but  she  received  threats  for 
her  compassions.  She  and  her  friends  looked  to  the  admiral 
as  their  only  defender.  A  commission  was  appointed  to 
try  the  prince.  Its  president  was  the  father  of  the  historian 
De  Thou.  "  I  deny  the  power  of  the  court,"  said  Conde, 
when  brought  before  it.  "  I  demand  that  I  shall  be  tried 
in  full  parliament,  and  by  my  peers."  But  the  trial  went 
on.  He  was  found  guilty  of  treason;  not  in  the  Amboise 
affair  alone,  but  in  his  attempts  to  rouse  the  southern  Hu- 
guenots, seize  the  treasuries  and  towns,  and  in  the  name  of 
his  king  put  on  foot  an  army  against  the  Guises.  One  of 
his  secret  agents,  Le  Sague,  had  been  arrested,  and  under 
torture  had  pretended  to  reveal  a  vast  conspiracy,  in  which 
the  Montmorencies  and  Chatillons  had  been  accused  of 
having  a  part.  The  Vidame  of  Chartres,  who  had  captured 
and  lost  Lyons,  was  already  in  prison,  from  which  death 
alone  would  release  him.  Conde,  however,  was  the  only 
one  now  under  trial,  and  his  condemnation  was  a  matter 
of  course.  The  sentence  was  signed  by  all  the  judges 
except  one.  Let  him  be  known  by  all  the  world.  He  was 
the  Count  of  Sancerre,  a  Romanist  and  ti  friend  of  the 
Guises.  But  he  persisted  in  his  refusal  to  act  unjustly. 
The  king  urged  him;  he  replied:  "I  will  rather  i)lace  my 
head  beneath  the  axe  of  the  executioner  than  bequeath  to 
my  children  the  infamy  of  reading  their  father's  name  sub- 
scribed to  a  capital  sentence  against  a  prince  whose  descend- 


214  ■  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

ants  may  one  day  become  tlieir  king."  He  rose  and  left 
the  room. 

"  He  is  in  his  dotage,"  said  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  to 
the  king.  "  He  forsakes  his  place ;  ignore  him."  The 
king  declared  that  the  sentence  was  fixed ;  on  the  tenth  of 
December  he  should  be  executed.  It  was  the  very  day  for 
the  assembly  to  open. 

"  Patience ;  all  will  be  well,"  we  hear  the  chancellor  say- 
ing to  the  admiral,  adding  that  his  name  must  go  upon  the 
paper  of  sentence.  He  delayed  to  sign  it,  giving  as  an 
excuse  that  "  he  was  not  very  well." 

The  prince  was  cheerful  and  courageous.  A  priest  was 
sent  to  his  prison  to  perform  mass.  "  I  have  come  to 
Orleans  for  very  different  purposes,"  said  Conde,  and  dis- 
missed him.  The  Duke  of  Guise  was  visited  by  his  mother- 
in-law,  the  Duchess  Renee,  a  Protestant  whom  he  cared  not 
to  see  just  then.  She  sharply  reproved  him  for  his  part  in 
the  horrible  business,  and  declared  that  if  she  had  come 
before  the  prince  was  seized  she  would  have  prevented  it. 
She  was  the  grand  aunt  of  the  king.  "  I  warn  you,"  she 
said  to  Guise,  "  to  desist  henceforth  from  offering  violence 
to  princes  of  the  royal  stock,  for  such  Avounds  will  bleed 
long,  and  it  will  never  end  well  with  those  who  begin  such 
assaults."  * 

And  yet  a  bolder  plot  was  ripening.  Antony  could  not 
be  reached  by  law ;  he  must  be  assassinated.  His  ears  were 
filled  with  rumours.  He  was  in  horror,  now  of  poison  at  a 
feast,  now  of  being  shot  at  the  chase,  again  of  being  stabbed 
at  court.  It  is  said  that  the  king  had  been  furnished  with 
a  dagger,  and  on  some  visit  he  was  to  murder  him.  Antony 
heard  of  it,  and,  for  once  in  his  life,  danger  seemed  to  fill 
him  with  courage.  He  was  invited  to  meet  the  king.  He 
then  said  to  his  captain :  "  I  am  going  where  my  death  has 
*  Perau,  Vies  de  Cond^,  de  Coligny. 


TWO    GllEAT    TARTIES.  215 

been  sworn.  If  I  perisli,  take  the  coat  I  now  wear  and  .sond 
it  to  my  wife ;  since  my  son*  is  not  old  enough  to  take 
vengeance  for  my  death,  let  her  send  it  to  the  Christian 
})rinces,  who  will  avenge  mc."  He  then  entered  the  royal 
chamber,  and  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  .shut  the  door  behind 
him.  The  king  made  some  insulting  remark,  but  from  fear 
or  pity  gave  no  signal  for  the  desperate  deed.  Antony  re- 
turned unhurt.  It  is  reported  that  the  Duke  of  Guise, 
hidden  behind  the  door,  saw  him  go  forth  alive  and  ex- 
claimed of  his  king,  "O  the  greatest  coward  that  ever 
lived  !     "What  a  prince  we  have !"  f 

Poor  Francis,  the  life  worried  out  of  him,  was  hardly  a 
king.  The  acts  of  his  reign  were  scarcely  his  own.  He 
was  the  tool  of  Catherine  when  he  wrote  to  the  Bishop  of 
Limoges,  "The  Church  will  never  enjoy  peace  unless  a 
general  council  be  held.  The  council  of  Trent  is  doing 
nothing  for  the  Protestants,  and  we  ought  to  try  every 
means  to  bring  them  into  a  conference  with  our  bishops. 
No  matter  what  the  pope  threatens,  let  us  have  a  council." 
Even  Lorraine  seemed  to  give  way :  "  Prayers  should  be 
allowed  in  French  and  the  Psalms  sung  in  church."  The 
warrior,  Gaspard  Tavannes,  in  a  wondrous  fit  of  common 
sense,  wrote  in  the  same  drift :  "  No  mass  in  French — no 
change  in  ceremonies,  but  yet  I  confess  that  the  people 
would  be  much  more  stirred  up  to  devotion  if  they  heard 
in  their  own  tongue  the  chants  of  the  priests  and  the 
Psalms  sung  in  the  churches." 

But  Francis  was  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of 
Guise  when  he  ordered  Tavannes  to  raise  troops  in  Dau- 
phiny  and  "  cut  the  rebels  in  pieces."  The  Reformed  had 
obeyed  the  edicts  so  far  as  to  meet  no  more  secretly  in  barns 
and  woods,  but  they  had  put  on  a  bolder  face  and  held 

*  The  fiitiiie  Henry  IV. 

f  L'KtoiK',  Mc'iii.  i>uur  I'llist. 


216  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

their  meetings  openly.  "  There  is  nothing  I  desire  more," 
the  king  was  made  to  say,  "than  to  have  you  cliastise  them 
without  mercy.  Tear  them  up  by  the  roots,  so  that  no 
fresh  ones  may  arise."  Still  later,  the  order  to  Barthe  was, 
"Catch  the  ministers  and  punish  them  soundly.  Hang 
them  without  trial.  If  any  people  dare  meet  for  worship, 
fall  on  them  with  the  sword.  I  beg  of  you,  cousin,  sweeji 
the  country  clear  of  such  rabble  as  disturb  the  world." 
Perhaps  the  letters  were  not  really  sent,  but  they  show  the 
cruel  designs.  At  Nismes  the  persecution  was  so  furious 
that  Marshal  Villars  reported,  "  The  heresy  extends  every 
day.     I  have  more  prisoners  than  I  can  put  to  death." 

But  the  wavering  cannot  evade  death.  On  the  life  of  no 
other  man  in  France  was  so  much,  just  then,  dependent,  as 
on  that  of  the  feeble  king.  One  morning  he  was  starting 
for  a  chase  in  the  forests,  when  a  sharp  pain  ran  through 
his  ear,  like  the  fatal  lance  that  pierced  his  father's  head. 
Ambrose  Pare  gave  him  up  as  hopeless.  His  room  was 
beset  with  those  who  had  some  presage  of  their  doom  if 
they  could  not  wring  from  him  the  word  they  wanted. 
"  Have  Conde  executed  at  once,"  was  the  demand  of  the 
Guises.  Catherine  refused,  by  Coligny's  urgency.  She 
never  wished  to  do  anything  in  a  crisis.  All  parties  were 
rapidly  changing  their  programme.  Antony  of  Navarre 
was  suddenly  popular.  His  gray  beard  and  portly  form 
were  more  attractive  than  his  rich  ear-rings  and  effeminate 
trappery,  Catherine  took  him  into  favour,  and  bargained 
with  him  for  the  regency  over  the  next  child-king.  The 
gasping  Francis  breathed  the  appointment — a  new  policy 
came  into  being. 

It  was  the  fifth  of  December,  five  days  before  the  time 
intended  for  Conde's  death.  The  agonies  of  the  king  were 
ending.  At  his  bedside  stood  Coligny,  who  watched  the 
royal  lips  grow  rigid,  and  then  turned  to  the  courtiers, 


TWO    GREAT    PARTIES.  217 

amonj^  whom  Guise  was  standinir,  and  said;  "Gentlemen, 
the  king  is  dead;  let  tiiat  teach  us  how  to  live."  (Sublime 
words ! 

When  he  could  he  spared,  Coligny  retired  to  his  room. 
In  deep  thought  he  sat  before  the  fire,  his  toothpick  in  his 
mouth  as  usual,  and  his  t'cet  (juite  on  the  embers.  He  could 
see  some  good  changes  coming.  One  of  his  suite  noticed 
liis  abstraction  and  caught  him  by  the  arm,  saying,  "Sir, 
you  have  been  in  a  brown  study  long  enough  ;  your  boots 
are  on  fire."  He  replied,  "Ah,  Fontaine,  only  a  week  ago 
you  and  I  would  have  thought  ourselves  well  ort'  with  the 
loss  of  a  leg  each,  and  now  we  have  lost  only  a  pair  of 
boots.     It  is  a  good  exchange." 

It  is  said  that  Catherine  showed  only  a  formal  regret, 
and  sent  her  son  to  his  tomb  with  the  scantiest  honours. 
It  was  not  malice  that  prompted  the  better  Huguenots  and 
Reformers  to  regard  the  king's  death  as  a  marvellous  de- 
liverance for  them  and  divine  judgment  upon  their  perse- 
cutors. At  one  period  of  his  reign  Calvin  wrote  to  "  the 
brethren  of  France,"  saying,  "  While  you  sec  the  poor  flock 
of  Christ  scattered  by  wolves,  resort  to  him,  praying  him 
to  strengthen  you,  and  to  change  them  into  hurndess  landjs. 
You  will  not  get  strength  by  murniuring  and  gnashing  your 
teeth  against  the  tyrants,  as  some  do  who  seek  not  the  refuge 
to  which  persecution  ought  to  drive  us.  The  Lord  is  a 
good  protector."*  The  next  year  he  wrote,  "  When  nearly 
all  men  were  paralyzed  by  the  torrent  of  fury  let  loose  upon 
FVance,  lo !  all  of  a  sudden,  (iod  revealed  his  arm.  The 
death  of  the  young  king  must  change  everything.  .  .  .  Did 
you  ever  read  or  hear  of  anything  more  opportune  ?  The 
evils  had  reached  such  a  pitch  that  there  was  no  remedy, 
when  God,  who  pierced  the  eye  of  the  father,  struck  the  car 
of  the  son.  .  .  .  One  can  hardly  believe  how  some  people 
*  Letter  of  November,  1559. 
Vol.  I.— 19 


218  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

exult.  They  wish  to  transform  the  whole  world  in  an  in- 
stant, and,  because  I  do  not  countenance  their  folly,  they 
charge  me  with  supineness."  * 

Beza  says:  "  The  sword  was  at  our  throats  when  the  Lord 
rose  up  and  carried  off  that  miserable  boy  by  a  death  as 
foul  as  it Was  unforeseen.  No  honours  were  paid  his  corpse, 
and  the  enemy  of  the  Lutherans  was  buried  like  a  Lutheran." 

The  Prince  of  Conde  was  amusing  himself  with  a  game 
when  the  word  came  to  him  that  the  king  was  dead.  With- 
out a  change  of  countenance  he  finished  it.  Soon  his  bro- 
ther was  made  lieutenant-general  in  place  of  the  Duke  of 
Guise;  Chai'les  IX.. was  king,  Catherine  was  regent,  Mont- 
morency and  Coligny  were  in  high  favour,  and  better  days 
seemed  to  have  come.  The  prison  door  was  open,  and 
Conde  was  told  to  go  free.  "  I  cannot  go  and  leave  my 
honour  here,"  he  said.  "  What  is  liberty  without  an  ac- 
knowledgment of  my  innocence?"  But  Montmorency  ad- 
vised him  to  take  what  he  could  get.  The  prince  was  soon 
mounted  upon  his  horse,  riding  into  Picardy  as  its  governor. 

What  a  change  !  On  one  December  day  Conde  is  within 
a  step  of  a  scaffold,  and  the  Calviuists  are  raai-ked  for  the 
massacre ;  in  the  night  death  comes  and  strikes  the  key- 
stone from  the  ai*ch  which  supports  the  power  of  the  Guises; 
the  next,  Conde  and  his  brother  of  Navarre  are  within  a 
step  of  the  throne,  the  three  Colignys  are  taken  into  royal 
favour,  the  Huguenots  may  be  relieved  of  burdens  and 
groans,  the  aged  iSIontmorency  may  walk  more  stately  than 
ever  at  Chantilly,  and  the  chancellor  more  boldly  propose 
gentle  measures  at  the  council-board. 

And  the  Guises  must  retire  and  wait  for  yeai*s  to  renew 
their  dream  of  conquestf     The  duke  wrathily  sees  the  va- 

*  Letters  to  Sulcer  and  Sturm,  Dec.  11  and  16,  1560.     The  amount 
of  French  history  in  the  fourth  volume  of  Letters  is  remarkable, 
f  "Althongli  the  policy  of  the  Guisean  faction  was,  for  the  moment, 


TWO   GrvEAT    PARTIES.  219 

cillating  Antony  Bourbon  made  lieutenant-general ;  the 
grandjuastership  reverts  to  IMontniorency.  France  seems 
to  be  under  a  strange  spell  of  "  Huguenoterie."  The  car- 
dinal's trap  has  failed;  rather  has  he  fallen  into  his  own 
net — the  just  fate  of  the  wicked.  It  was  set  especially  for 
Cond6  and  Coligny,  and  now  they  are  more  free  than  ever 
before.  It  was  hard  but  righteous.  Catherine  well  knew 
the  cardinal's  scheme  was  a  wicked  one,  for  she  had  helped 
to  form  it.  But  she  could  relieve  herself  from  the  toils  of 
the  net  by  a  sacrifice  of  the  chief  inventor.  Pie  saw  his 
power  blasted.  "In  chagrin,"  says  Brantome,  "he  quitted 
the  court  through  pure  poltroonery;"  and  great  was  his 
mortification  as  he  rode  out  of  the  town  to  hear  the  people 
crying  in  the  streets,  from  the  shops  and  windows,  "Adieu, 
M.  le  Cardinal ;  tlie  mass  is  broken." 

The  duke  and  cardinal  retired,  and,  to  soothe  their  dis- 
grace, tliey  attended  Mary  of  Scots  to  her  native  land, 
there  to  try  their  arts  against  Knox  and  the  Protestant 
nobles  of  Scotland.  As  ]\[ary  sailed  away,  she  sat  on  a 
couch,  straining  her  eyes  till  the  shores  faded  from  her 
sight,  and  exclaimed, 

"Farewell,  farewell,  beloved  France! 
I  ne'er  shall  see  thee  more  !" 

The  facts  of  history  greatly  lessen  the  sympathy  for  this 

watchful  and  pacific,  their  motive  was  merely  to  gain  time.  Their 
main  purpose  continued  the  same  as  before — the  destruction  of  the 
party  of  the  Reformation  in  Europe.  To  put  down  the  Huguenots 
in  France,  to  encourage  the  Romanists  in  England  and  Scotland,  to 
BOW  dissension  amongst  the  Protestant  princes  of  Germany,  to  support 
the  council  of  Trent  now  pitting,  and,  in  a  word,  to  concentrate  the 
whole  strength  of  France,  Spain,  Italy  and  the  Empire  against  that 
great  moral  and  religious  revolution  liy  whicli  liglit  and  truth  were 
struggling  to  free  themselves  from  the  trammels  of  long-established 
erroi-s,  was  the  chief  object  to  which  they  directed  their  eflbrlfl." — 
Tyder,  History  of  Scotland,  vi.  197. 


220  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

powerful  ([uecn,  by  nullifying  the  romance  thrown  around 
her  eventful  life.  Coukl  she  have  been  free  from  the  ruin- 
ous craft  of  her  uncles,  she  might  have  risen  as  the  star  of 
the  North,  guiding  her  native  land  out  of  the  troubles  for 
which  P^ngland  was  greatly  responsible.  Even  in  the 
severe  school  of  French  intrigue  she  had  learned  the  one 
principle  for  which  such  men  as  Coligny  beset  the  throne — 
that  of  allowing  a  people  to  choose  and  exercise  the  form 
of  religion  which  they  most  approved.  True,  she  did  not 
sanction  it".  Nor  was  she  free  to  reason  upon  its  justice. 
With  a  motley  company  of  French,  Italian  and  Scottish 
attendants  whispering  in  her  ears  all  about  mass-books, 
Papal  bulls  and  Protestant  covenants,  her  mind  was  con- 
fused by  the  Babel  of  tongues :  her  eyes  were  dimmed  by 
the  mists  of  policy,  as  thick  as  the  fogs  amid  wdiich  she 
landed  at  Leith.  Nor  could  her  wily  uncle  clear  her  vision. 
Romanism  had  something  more  to  do  in  reclaiming  Scot- 
land than  to  set  up  the  Papal  cross  on  the  shore  and  the 
inquisition  in  the  capital.  Even  the  cardinal  had  too  much 
to  face,  and  left  the  slow  work  to  other  hands.  When 
Mary  was  met  by  those  earnest,  unyielding  Scotsmen — the 
warlike  Borderer,  the  rugged  Highlander,  the  courtier  less 
polite  and  plastic  than  she  had  left  in  Paris — she  saw  a 
force  of  Protestantism  even  more  resistless  than  that  of 
Chandieu  and  Coligny.  To  flatter  or  deceive  it  was  impos- 
sible ;*   brave  it  down  she  could  not;  submit  she  must. 

*  "If  tliere  be  not  in  lier  n  proud  mind,  a  crafty  wit,  and  an  in- 
durate heart  against  God  and  his  truth,  my  judgment  faileth  me." 
Thus  said  Knox  soon  after  his  first  conversation  with  the  queen.  He 
gained  liis  point  for  a  time,  because  ( as  Kandolpli  expressed  his  opin- 
ion of  liim)  "The  voice  of  that  one  man  is  able  to  put  more  life  in 
lis  in  one  hour  than  five  hundred  trumpets  blustering  in  our  ears." 
With  all  Mr.  P'roude's  aversion  to  Calvinism,  he  gives  to  Knox  the 
credit  of  doing  more  for  Scotland  and  England  than  any  other  man 
of  his  age. 


TWO   GREAT    PAIITIKS.  221 

She  Imd  a  splendid  opportunity  to  illustrate  the  working  of 
the  principles  of  true  liberty.  She  promised  well  under 
Knox  and  Murray.  She  >vas  then  tolerant,  giving  free 
worship  to  the  Protestants,  and  reserving  for  herself  the 
little  royal  chapel  with  its  mass  and  breviary,  its  priest  and 
pictures.  Some  of  them  were  not  wise;  she  grew  bewildered 
and  played  the  fool,  through  the  advice  of  her  uncles. 
Hers  was  a  sa<l  doom.  It  might  have  been  averted  had 
she  taken  as  her  key-note  those  words  of  Knox,  in  which 
he  condensed  the  volume  of  Protestant  principles :  "Con- 
science requires  knowledge,  and  of  right  knowledge  I  fear 
you  have  but  little."  Here  we  leave  the  niece  of  the  Lor- 
raines,  whose  hapjiiest  day  was  ended  when  she  ceased  to  be 
queen  of  France. 
19  « 


CHAPTER    IX. 
A  cohghess  a\d  a  colloqut. 

(IGOO— 15G1.) 

THE  Guises  had  not  retired  befoi'e  they  saw  Admiral 
Coligny  brought  into  prominence  at  the  court.  That 
wary  diplomatist,  the  English  Throgmorton,  was  present  to 
see  if  Calais  might  not  be  recovered  and  Elizabeth  put  at 
the  head  of  the  Protestant  Avorld.  He  believed  in  the 
freedom  of  the  pen,  and  thus  wrote : 

"  The  house  of  Guise  presently  does  seem  here  to  bear 
small  rule.  The  countenance  and  hope  they  have  is  of  t]ie 
King  of  Spain  who,  for  religion  and  other  respects,  it  is 
thought,  will  help  to  stay  their  credit  as  much  as  he  may. 

"  The  principal  managing  of  affairs  doth  seem  to  be 
chiefly  in  the  hands  of  the  queen-mother,  the  King  of 
Navarre  and  the  constable  [Montmorency  now  returned]  ; 
and  as  the  King  of  Spain  will  earnestly  travail  to  suppress 
religion,  so  is  it  most  safe  for  her  majesty  [Elizabeth]  and 
her  best  policy  to  be  as  diligent  to  advance  it.  .  .  .  The 
true  religion  is  very  like  to  take  place  in  France,  and  so, 
consequently,  throughout  all  Europe  where  Christianity  is 
received. 

"I  did,  of  late,  address  myself  to  the  admiral,  who,  for 
his  virtue  and  wisdom,  is  much  esteemed.  I  do  find  by 
him  that  if  the  queen's  majesty  will  put  an  earnest  mind 
and  hand  to  this  matter,  it  will  be  here  well  accepted  and 
will  work  very  good  effect.  AVe  talked  of  many  particu- 
lars.    He  thinks  that  the  general  council  [of  all  Protest- 

222 


A    CONGRESS    AND    A    fOLLOQUV.  223 

auta]  cannot  take  place,  but  that  tlie  King  [of  Fiance] 
must  assemble  a  national  council,  whereunto,  if  her  majesty 
would  send  some  learned  men,  he  does  not  doubt  but  all 
shall  be  well." 

Coligny  had  then  in  his  mind  "a  national  council"  upon 
religious  subjects.  For  this  he  pleaded  with  Catherine, 
and  wrote  letters  far  and  near.  To  secure  it  was  the  work 
of  months ;  we  shall  see  the  result  at  Poissy.  At  the  same 
time  there  were  preparations  to  be  made  for  the  assembly 
of  the  States-general,  just  at  hand.  He  wii^hed  to  see  it  a 
congress  of  the  wisest  men  to  settle  the  affairs  of  a  groan- 
ing nation. 

When  the  news  of  the  king's  death  was  reported  through 
the  provinces  the  deputies  crowded  to  Orleans,  for  the  Ro- 
manists wished  to  make  sure  of  Catherine,  and  the  Protest- 
ants must  make  the  most  of  their  ojjportunity.  Coligny  must 
be  sustained,  and  Navarre  kept  from  wavering,  leaning  too 
far  over  and  falling  by  the  intoxication  of  new  power.  At 
the  opening  of  the  congress  we  have  another  long  speech 
from  the  good  chancellor,  full  of  "  ideas  sage  and  strong." 
Peace  to  all  storms  in  State  and  Church  was  his  theme. 
He  was  not  afraid  to  say  that  "  the  death  of  the  late  king 
had  excited  no  new  seditions,  but  had  (piii'ted  those  which 
had  before  existed."  The  debates  were  not  so  lively  as  at 
Fontainebleau.  "  The  orators  cited  continually  the  ancients, 
without  knowing  how  to  imitate  them."* 

The  orator  for  the  clergy  was  Jean  Quintin,  who  ran  into 
classical  illustrations,  made  himself  ridiculous  to  his  breth- 
ren and  waked  up  Coligny.  He  told  how  one  Guiras 
begged  the  Emperor  Arcadius  to  allow  the  Arians  the  use 
of  a  church  in  Constantinople  for  their  services.  The  re- 
quest of  the  heretic  was  refused;  he  deserved  it  lor  his  im- 
pertinence. As  he  got  nothing,  he  sought  revenge,  threw 
*  Laoratelle. 


224  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

off  the  mask,  showed  liimself  a  vehel  and  miserably  per- 
ished. All  understood  that  he  meant  to  portray  Coligny 
with  his  petitions  at  the  former  assembly.  He  said,  "  If 
any  man  digs  up  buried  heresies  or  revives  a  condemned 
sect,  and  then  begs  for  churches  and  for  liberty  in  the  king- 
dom" (here  all  eyes  turned  upon  Coligny),  "we  ask  that 
he  be  declared  a  heretic  and  punished."  The  Huguenot 
nobles  demanded  a  retraction.  Coligny  requested  it  from 
Catherine.  The  orator  made  an  apology,  but  he  was  so 
overwhelmed  by  satires,  songs  and  lampoons  that  he  soon 
after  died  of  chagrin.  The  admiral  did  not  cease  to  press 
the  cause  of  the  Huguenots  ;  he  aided  a  deputation  of  their 
ministers  in  addressing  the  king,  and  waited  his  hour  for 
presenting  again  the  Norman  petitions,  which  had  pre- 
viously made  such  a  sensation. 

A  great  idea  was  coming  to  light — that  of  religious  tolera- 
tion. Its  advance  was  slow.  Even  the  chancellor  said  at 
Orleans,  "  It  is  foolish  to  look  for  peace  between  persons  of 
different  creeds.  The  maxim  is,  One  liiith,  one  law,  one 
king.  Therefore  let  there  be  a  national  council  to  reform 
abuses.  If  the  pope  do  not  call  it,  the  king  will."  He  op- 
posed all  severe  measures  :  "  The  sword  avails  little  against 
reason  ;  gentleness  will  convert  more  people  than  violence." 

During  the  winter  there  were  several  meetings  of  the  na- 
tional assembly,  when  bold  men  expressed  their  timely 
views.  "  Let  there  be  no  force  in  religious  matters,"  said 
the  abbot  of  Aubry.  "  The  conscience  will  allow  nothing 
to  command  it  but  reason ;  therefore  the  attempt  to  deny 
reason  to  those  of  the  pretended  Reformed  religion  can  pro- 
duce nothing  but  evil.  It  would  only  be  driving  them  into 
atheism — a  result  abhorrent  to  us  all.  The  remedy  is  in  a 
council ;  not  in  the  sword  and  gibbet.  What  have  the  nine 
severe  edicts  gained  ?  Nothing  ;  the  so-called  Reform  grows 
by  fire." 


A    CONGRESS    AND    A    COLLUCiUY.  225 

It  was  not  until  August,  1561,  that  tlie  chancellor  took 
the  broad  ground  of  toleration.  At  I'ontoi.se  he  said  to  the 
estates,  "  I  do  not  understand  those  Avho  insist  upon  banish- 
ing the  new  religion  from  the  kingdom.  Our  only  concern 
is  to  know  whether  the  state  will  gain  more  by  prohibiting 
than  by  permitting  the  Calvinist  meetings.  We  need  not 
ask  what  their  doctrines  are,  for  even  if  they  are  bad,  is 
that  a  reason  for  proscribing  these  people?"  Another 
orator  took  up  the  theme :  "  Both  parties  found  their  re- 
ligion on  Scripture ;  then  let  them  not  hate  and  persecute 
each  other.  Severe  edicts  will  kindle  a  fire  which  no  power 
under  heaven  can  extinguish."  A  bold  measure  was  pro- 
posed to  fill  the  treasury :  "  If  the  king  wants  money,  let 
him  do  as  they  have  done  in  England  and  Germany — take 
what  enriches  and  corrupts  the  Church."  This  proposal 
called  forth  such  a  storm  of  debate  that  the  Protestants 
were  quite  forgotten. 

Coligny  saw  tokens  of  promise  that  the  government  was 
henceforth  to  be  merciful  and  tolerant.  He  hoped  that 
there  might  be  no  evil  in  what  Catherine  often  quoted  from 
the  prophet:  "  AVoe  to  thee,  O  land,  when  thy  king  is  a 
child!"  True  Charles  IX.  was  a  very  unwise  child,  but 
his  mother  seemed  to  be  endowed  with  a  liberal  spirit.  It 
was  not  yet  clear  to  the  mind  of  the  honest  admiral  that 
she  had  adopted  the  rule  of  Louis  XL:  "  He  who  knows 
not  how  to  feign,  knows  not  how  to  reign."  She  under- 
stood both  these  arts.  It  was  for  her  father  that  Machiavel 
had  written  his  "  Prince,"  and  she  studied  the  book  as  if  it 
contained  the  maxims  of  her  Sohnnon. 

AVhat  was  Coligny 's  delight  when  the  chancellor  laid 
down  another  of  his  great  stopping-stones  to  liberty !  An 
order  was  (piietly  sent,  7th  January,  loGl,  to  the  parliament 
of  Paris,  commanding  the  release  of  all  prisoners  confined 
on  account  of  their  religion.     It  was  advised  that  the  order 


226  ADMIKAL   COLIGNY. 

be  kept  secret,  "  for  fear  of  exciting  scandal !"  Parliament 
was  angry.  The  spirit  of  the  slain  Dii  Bourg  seemed  to 
rise  in  their  hall.  But  at  the  end  of  the  month  the  order 
was  made  public  and  sent  throughout  the  provinces.  This 
is  to  be  remarked  as  the  first  public  act  of  legislation 
favourable  to  the  Protestants.  Another  soon  followed. 
Under  pain  of  death  it  was  forbidden  all  parties  to  revile 
each  other.  One  must  not  call  the  other  Papists ;  these 
must  not  call  their  neighbours  Huguenots.  It  was  forbid- 
den all  spies  to  visit  houses  to  ferret  out  the  secret  wor- 
shippers of  God,  or  disturb  quiet  meetings,  or  to  turn 
informers  for  a  reward  against  the  innocent.  Goods, 
houses  and  lands  were  to  be  restored  to  those  who  had 
suffered  by  confiscation  ;*  and,  lastly,  those  banished  for 
their  faith  should  be  allowed  to  return  to  their  homes ;  but, 
said  the  parliament  of  the  latter  class,  "  provided  they  live 
externally  as  Catholics." 

"  That  means,"  we  hear  the  chancellor  say  to  Coligny, 
whose  house  was  set  in  Reformed  order,  "  that  you  do  not 
take  special  pains  to  show  yourselves  Protestants.  Shut 
your  doors  and  worship  as  you  choose." 

If  Coligny  might  have  his  psalm-singing  and  preaching, 
even  at  court,  why  might  not  others  have  the  like  in  their 
homes  ?  The  Reformed  were  not  slow  to  take  every  inch 
of  privilege.  "  They  discovered  themselves  frankly  about 
religion,"  says  Castelnau;  "they  met  in  houses,  where  they 
baptized,  celebrated  the  Lord's  Supper  and  marriages,  and 
offered  prayers  after  the  manner  of  Geneva — very  different 

*  Tlie  edict  was  ordered  to  be  read  in  the  churches.  At  Provlns  a 
friar  introduced  it  thus :  "My  dear  Christian  brethren,  I  am  instructed 
to  read  an  edict  ordering  the  cats  and  mice  to  live  in  peace  togetlier; 
that  is  to  say,  tliat  heretics  and  Catholics  should  do  the  same,  for  such 
is  the  king's  pleasure.  I  am  sorry  for  it,  and  am  grieved  to  see  the 
new  reign  begin  so  unpromisingly." — Quoted  in  White. 


A    CONGRESS    AND    A    COLLOQl'Y.  227 

from  those  of  Aufrsburg,  which  many  thought  better  to 
admit  into  France,  if  there  was  need  of  either,  rather  than 
to  allow  the  entrance  of  the  sect  of  Calvin.  Soon  the 
assemblies  became  so  large  that  private  houses  could  not 
contain  them.  .  .  .  The  ministers  were  mosth'  ignorant, 
knowing  little  beyond  the  prayers  and  catechisms  printed 
at  Geneva.  The  most  learned  and  clever  had  been  banished 
or  executed .'" 

"  It  is  incredible,"  said  Calvin,  "  with  what  fervent  zeal 
our  brethren  are  urging  forward  greater  progress.  Pastors 
arc  everywhere  asked  for  from  among  us.  Those  who  are 
in  quest  of  them  besiege  my  doors  and  pay  court  to  me  as 
if  I  held  a  levee.  They  vie  with  one  another  in  pious 
rivalry,  as  if  there  was  the  utmost  peace  in  Christ's  king- 
dom. We  desire  to  comply  with  their  wishes  as  far  as  is 
possible,  but  our  stock  of  preachers  is  exhausted.  We  have 
even  been  obliged  to  sweep  the  workshops  of  the  working- 
classes,  to  find  persons  with  some  tincture  of  learning  and 
sound  doctrine  to  supply  the  urgent  need."*  But  there 
were  eloquent  tinkers  before  the  days  of  Bunyan. 

Was  Coligny  deceived  by  the  gentleness  of  Catherine? 
Was  he  again  ready  to  address  her  as  the  Esther  of  the 
Protestants?  "Because  she  hearkened  so  freely  to  the 
admiral  and  others  who  spoke  of  abuses  which  crept  into 
the  Church,  some  did  not  scruple  to  say  that  Madame 
Crussol  or  the  Duchess  of  Savoy  had  given  her  majesty  a 
tincture  of  the  Reformed  religion."! 

She  favoured  Jean  Montluc,  and  gave  him  the  pulpit  of 
the  palace  at  Fontainebleau,  in  which  town  he  had  so  elo- 
quently defended  the  Norman  petitions  less  than  one  year 
before.  Poor  Jacobin  monk  in  the  cathedral  had  to  preach 
his  Lent  sermons  to  sadly  thin  audiences.    On  this  proceed- 

*  Calvin  to  Bullincrer,  24th  May,  ]  "H)!,  el  puKnim. 

f  M^moires  de  Castelnaii ;  Maimbourg,  Histoire  dii  Calvinisme. 


228  ADMIEAL   COLIGNY. 

ing  hear  the  Jesuit  Maimbourg :  "  It  seems  to  me,"  he 
wrote  in  his  History  of  Calvinism,  "  that,  on  the  most 
favourable  construction,  it  may  be  fearlessly  said  that  all 
she  did  on  this  occasion  was  but  a  pretence.  She  did  ill  to 
feign  so  well  as  to  give  ground  to  believe  that  she  belonged 
to  the  new  sect.  For  she  not  only  allowed  the  ministers  to 
preach  in  the  apartments  of  the  prince  (Charles  ?),  where 
all  the  world  crowded  to  hear  them,  whilst  a  poor  Jacobin, 
who  preached  the  Lent  sei'mons,  was  deserted,  but  she  went 
so  far  as  to  take  part  herself,  with  all  her  ladies,  at  the  ser- 
mons of  the  Bishop  of  Valence  [Montluc],  who  preached* 
openly,  in  one  of  the  rooms  of  the  chateau,  the  new  dogmas 
he  had  drawn  from  the  heresies  of  Luther  and  Calvin.  So 
sudden  and  so  strange  a  change  took  place  at  court  that 
•one  would  have  said  she  was  quite  a  Calvinist.  Although 
it  was  Lent,  meat  was  sold  publicly  and  spread  upon  every 
table.  They  talked  no  more  of  attending  mass,  and  the 
young  king,  who  was  still  taken  there  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances, went  almost  alone  (to  mass).  They  scoffed  at  the 
authority  of  the  popas,  at  the  worship  of  the  saints  and  of 
images,  at  indulgences,  and  at  the  ceremonies  of  the  Church, 
which  they  treated  as  supei"stitions."f 

If  the  Jesuit  was  right  in  saying  that  Catherine  went  to 
the  sermons  as  a  feint,  he  might  have  said  that  it  was  also 
a  feint,  on  her  part,  when  she  went  to  mass.  Her  "  Italian 
religion"  was  no  religion  at  all ;  it  was  simply  a  policy  to 

*  And  with  his  hat  on  liis  head,  "after  (lie  manner  of  Geneva." 
f  Why  does  not  Maimbourg  tell  us  of  the  friar  who,  on  Palm  Sun- 
day, took  for  his  text  these  words  from  the  Vulgate :  Itc  in  CnsteUum 
quod  contra  vos  est  (Go  into  the  village  over  against  you,  etc.;  Matt, 
xxi.  2) ;  and,  by  playing  on  the  word  castellum,  he  so  applied  it  as  to 
mean.  Go  against  the  house  of  Chatillon,  the  enemy  of  the  Church. 
The  name  of  this  house  meant  castle.  The  hearers  understood  it, 
"but  that  fellow  was  rlapt  in  prison  for  his  pains,"  says  Laval.  This 
was  much  to  tlie  credit  of  the  Romanists  or  the  chancellor. 


A    CUNGKI-:.SS    AND    A    COJ.LOQUY.  229 

please  all  whom  she  could  deceive,  and  to  divide  all  parties, 
who  saw  through  her  disguises.  "  Instead  of  serving  God, 
she  turned  God  to  her  service."  She  listened  to  Coligny, 
Montmorency  and  Navarre  when  they  urged  her  to  wrest 
from  the  Guises  their  offices  and  honours.  The  duke  was 
humbled  for  a  time.  He  and  St.  Andre  were  compelled  to 
refund  certain  ill-gotten  gains,  the  spoils  of  their  rapacity. 
She  then  listened  to  St.  Andre,  who  saw  a  method  of  break- 
ing down  Coligny  and  his  party,  and  propo.sed  to  reconcile 
the  veteran  Montmorency  and  the  Duke  of  Guise.  The 
matter  was  difficult,  even  for  the  court  ladies.  Something 
stronger  than  silk  must  form  the  ties ;  it  was  found  in 
religion. 

"Are  these  heretics  to  have  all  the  favoui-s-?"  said  the 
wife  of  the  constable,  who  had  a  genuine  Savoy  hatred  of 
the  Protestants  in  her  veins.  "  I  detest  these  Coligny 
brothers — " 

"What,  what!"  muttered  the  old  unoJe,  "hate  my 
nephews  ?" 

"  Their  religion,  I  mean."  But  her  aversion  had  still 
another  motive,  and  she  skilfully  touched  other  chords. 
"  You  have  been  too  partial  to  your  nephews.  You  have 
not  allowed  my  brothers  of  Savoy  a" share  in  the  honours 
and  offices  of  state." 

"  There's  no  blood  of  the  first  Christian  baron  in  their 
veins,"  thought  Montmorency,  still  eager  to  save  his 
nephews  from  disgraces  which  he  well  kncAV  were  bitter  in 
the  extreme.  He  hesitated.  The  new  arrangement  did 
not  suit  his  temper.  He  detested  the  Guises.  He  courted 
Cond6.  He  hoped  to  make  good  use  of  Navarre.  He 
spoke  "very  lively"  to  the  queen-mother  against  the  whole 
tribe  of  Lorraines.  Why  need  she  bring  them  back  to  the 
court? 

"  It  is  very  necessiiry,"  replied  Catherine.    "  But  you  can 

Vol.  I.— 20 


2o0  ADMJllAL    COJ-IU.NV. 

still  be  griuid-niaster ;  it  is  your  right."  The  strong  will 
began  to  bend.  "The  ancient  religion  is  at  stake,"  said 
the  ladies  and  St.  Andre,  their  immoral  ally  in  temptation. 
The  new  league  was  for  the  sake  of  religion!  "Your 
nephews  are  serving  the  heretics.  Your  ancient  house  is 
thus  dishonoured."  The  old  baron's  pride  was  touched. 
For  his  religion  he  must  strike  hands  with  the  Guises,  and 
ruin  the  Chatillons.* 

Coligny  begged  his  uncle  to  retain  his  lofty  place  as  an 
umpire  between  all  parties,  act  with  De  I'Hopital  in  securing 
peace,  and  not  become  a  partisan  with  men  who  had  proved 
themselves  the  enemies  of  France.  Young  Montmorency 
added  his  pleas  to  those  of  his  cousin  the  admiral.  But  all 
was  in  vain. 

On  Easter-day  a  grand  mass  was  celebrated.  Whispers 
of  a  strange  reconciliation  had  drawn  many  to  the  church. 
The  gray-headed  Montmorency  knelt  at  the  altar.  The 
fiery  Duke  of  Guise  came  and  knelt  at  his  side.  They 
took  the  wafer  together.  Xo  doubt  the  Marshal  St.  Andre 
completed  the  trio.  In  their  hearts  they  pledged  a  faith 
to  each  other,  and  to  Romanism,  which  was  yet  to  prove 
almost  the  doom  of  Protestantism  in  France.  They  went 
from  the  altar  to  a  feast  provided  by  the  constable.  To 
this  part  of  the  loving  engagement  full  justice  was  done  by 
St.  Andre,  w  horn  Brantome  calls  "  a  true  Lucullus,"  and 
the  Protestant  Laval  describes  as  "a  man  altogether  sur- 
rendered to  gluttony  and  its  consequent  vices."  This  union 
was  to  strengthen  until  it  would  receive  the  name  of  The 
Triumvirate.  It  was  to  be  the  head  of  the  Romish  party  in 
France.  Behind  it  was  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  with  the 
mass  of  the  clergy.  Above  it  was  the  pope  and  Philip  of 
Spain.  Beneath  it  were  the  people,  especially  of  the  north 
and  the  west.  Before  it  the  King  of  Navarre  will  bow  and 
*  D'Auvigny,  Vie  de  Montmorency;  Peraii,  Vie  de  Coligny. 


A    CONGRESS    AND    A    COLLOQUY.  231 

betray  every  trust  committed  to  hira  by  the  Protestants. 
Out  of  it  are  to  grow  tyranny  over  the  State  and  persecu- 
tions upon  the  true  Church. 

They  began  their  work.  Coligny  saw  his  dignified  uncle 
disphvy  the  most  cliiklish  spirit  of  rage.  The  proud  de- 
scendant of  "  the  first  Christian  baron"  was  one  day  per- 
suaded to  attend  the  "  queen's  preachings"  in  the  jialace, 
and  listen  to  the  eloquent  bishop  of  Valence,  who  "  preached 
in  a  short  cloak  and  a  cap,  after  the  fashion  of  the  ministers." 
Hearing  and  seeing  wliat  he  hated,  he  burst  forth  into  an 
ungovernable  fury,  and  disturbed  the  preacher  by  his  inso- 
lence. Indeed,  the  good  bishop's  life  was  quite  in  danger. 
At  another  time  he  was  crossing  the  hall,  when  he  found  a 
large  assembly  attent  upon  the  like  discourses.  In  a  tem- 
pest of  wrath  he  cried  out,  "  Fling  that  fellow  out  of  the 
window ! "     The  bishop  narrowly  escaped.* 

The  nephews  of  Montmorency  were  giving  him  trouble. 
In  his  new  zeal  he  quite  forgot  the  former  gentleness  toward 
them,  and  yet  he  dare  not  strike.  Besides  the  preaching 
supported  by  the  two  younger  brothei-s,  Cardinal  Odet  was 
filling  Beauvais  with  the  new  doctrines.  As  he  was  a 
bisliop,  why  sliould  he  not  follow  the  good  old  gospel  way, 
and  tell  the  people  how  to  be  happiest  on  earth  and  how 
to  get  to  heaven  at  last?  On  an  Easter-day  he  went  into 
his  cathedral  and  surprised  the  people  by  having  no  mass. 
Had  he  forgotten  it?  He  surprised  some  of  them  still  more 
by  inviting  the  faithful  to  his  house,  and  there  celebrating 
the  Lord's  Supper  "after  the  fashion  of  Geneva."  This 
was  not  to  be  endured  by  the  Romanists.  They  rose,  went 
howling  for  vengeance  around  his  walls,  and  created  such 
a  disturbance  that  there  was  soon  no  lack  of  a  crowd.  Some 
young  wool-carders  having  a  holiday,  and  roaming  through 
streets,  thought  to  make  the  best  of  their  chance,  and  began 
*  D'Artipny,  Vie  <le  Montmorenci. 


232  AD>[inAL    (-(JLIGNY. 

to  break  into  tlie  houses  and  get  the  spoils.  An  elder  of 
the  church,  and  a  teacher  of  the  children  was  seized  torn 
from  his  home,  beaten  and  murdered.  His  body  was  car- 
ried to  the  burning-place,  tied  to  the  stake,  and  an  officer 
applied  the  fire  to  the  fagots  amid  the  shouts  of  the  mob. 
Some  ran  to  the  bishop's  palace,  calling  for  him  to  show  him- 
self. They  saw  him  come  to  the  window.  There  he  stood 
in  his  cardinal's  hat  and  robes,  and  they  judged  him  by  the 
dress  he  wore ;  so  they  were  content,  and  each  left  for  his 
own  home.  Odet,  being  a  cardinal,  was  not  in  danger  of  the 
charge  of  having  caused  a  riot.  The  rioters,  being  "  good 
Catholics,"  were  quite  safe  from  prosecution.  Yet  the  aftair 
was  reported  to  his  uncle  as  a  revolt.  Young  Marshal 
Montmorency  was  sent  to  quell  the  disturbance.  Very 
likely  he  had  a  special  care  to  have  a  private  word  with  his 
cousin,  with  whose  opinions  he  was  quite  in  sympathy.  Two 
men  were  punished.* 

"  In  twenty  cities,  or  thereabouts,  the  godly  have  been 
massacred  by  the  infuriated  mob.  Respecting  these  butch- 
eries no  investigation  has  been  instituted,  except  at  Beau- 
vais.  At  Paris,  when  the  populace  attacked  the  house  of  a 
courageous  nobleman,  and  he,  by  the  aid  of  his  friends,  re- 
pelled the  furious  assault,  twelve  persons  were  killed  and 
forty  wounded.  A  decree  was  immediately  passed  that  he 
should  compear,  and  if  he  did  not  constitute  himself  pris- 
oner before  the  expiration  of  three  market-days,  he  should 
be  condemned  by  default.  Kow,  certainly,  if  ever,  it  is  the 
time  to  implore  God  that  he  would  be  mindful  of  his  unfor- 
tunate flock."  Thus  wrote  Calvin,  who  had  constantly  re- 
ports from  all  France.  He  heard  of  the  rapid  growth  of 
churches  in  Provence — sixty  of  them  in  a  single  year,  de- 
spite the  fury  shown  against  them.  He  Avrote  to  some  of 
them :  "  We  are  well  aware  that  it  is  a  plausible  opinion 
*  Laval,  Hist.  Ref. 


A    C<>X(iIU:sS    AND    A    COLLOQUY.  233 

that  it  is  lawful  for  us  to  avenge  ourselves  on  a  mutinous 
populace,  as  this  is  not  resisting  the  order  of  justice;  nay, 
that  the  laws  themselves  arm  us  against  robbers.  But,  what- 
ever sophistries  be  thus  urged,  our  whole  duty  consists  in 
practicing  the  lesson  taught  by  our  sovereign  Master,  to 
possess  our  souls  in  patience.  In  truth  it  is  best  and  safest 
to  hide  under  his  shadow  when  exposed  to  such  storms. 
Now  it  is  by  this  resisting  evil  by  force  of  arms  that  we  pre- 
vent him  from  coming  to  our  relief.*  .  .  .  We  live  in  times 
when  we  should  labour  on  the  one  hand  and  suffer  on  the 
other.     Better  a  hundredfold  die  than  flinch." 

Coligny  put  himself  in  direct  correspondence  with  Ge- 
neva, a  great  ofl'once  to  the  Triumvirate.  He  asked  for  a 
preacher.  We  know  not  who  was  first  sent.  Calvin  says  : 
"The  admiral  is  the  only  one  on  whose  fidelity  we  can 
count.  A  colleague  of  ours  is  stirring  up  his  zeal.  This 
colleague  I  sent  to  him,  without  consulting  anybody,  lest  any 
part  of  the  odium  should  fall  on  our  senate.  He  preaches 
])ul)licly  to  crowded  audiences  not  far  from  the  palace.  All 
t)ur  adversaries  keep  bawling  that  such  audacity  should  not 
be  tolerated.  The  queen  entreats  him,  coaxingly,  to  desist. 
But  rather  than  flinch  he  will  l)rave  everything."  And 
yet  Coligny  had  to  give  way  somewhat,  if  Chautounay  re- 
ported the  truth  to  his  Spanisli  master,  Philip.  He  referred 
to  the  influence  of  the  admiral,  whose  chaplain  preached  to 
more  than  three  hundred  persons,  but  still  later  wrote: 
"The  day  after  Easter  Sunday  the  pid>]ic  j)reachings  in  the 
great  court  [open  space]  of  F()ntaini'l)lfau,  before  the  lodg- 
ings of  Admiral  Coligny,  in  tlie  presence  of  M.  de  Cond^, 
have  been  forbidden."  Chautounay  had  advised  tluxt  the 
heretics  should  be  punished,  but  Catherine  replied,  "It 
is  not  possible ;  see  the  great  number  of  them.  It  would 
ruin  everything,  and  excite  a  civil  war."     D'Aubign^  says, 

*  Compare  the  various  letters  of  Calvin  during  the  year  1561. 
20* 


234  ADMIRAL    C'OLIGXY. 

that  she  used  "  the  language  of  Canaan  "  when  conversing 
with  Protestant  ministers.  One  account  is,  that  she  promised 
"  to  liave  her  son,  the  king,  instructed  in  their  religion."* 

Coligny  wants  yet  another  minister,  who  may  be  a  chap- 
lain in  his  own  house.  Calvin  sends  him  John  Raymond 
Merlin,f  a  young  Dauphinese  of  excellent  abilities,  and 
afterward  writes  to  the  admiral :  "  Be  not  weary  in  the 
good  work.  It  is  worth  a  hundred  lives,  if  we  had  them. 
I  know-  the  difficulties  which  might  arrest  you  or  cause  you 
to  turn  bridle.  You  know  them  still  better,  and  therefore 
put  your  stay  on  God.  Look  higher  than  the  world  ;  have 
your  anchor  in  heaven.  I  shrewdly  suspect  that  the  devil 
is  brewing  some  mischief  underground  to  cause  fresh  dis- 
orders. Yet  God  may  do  his  work  in  some  extraordinary 
fashion.  I  do  not  approve  of  the  ardour  of  some  who  are 
in  too  great  haste,  but  as  I  cannot  restrain  them,  I  shut  my 
eyes  and  leave  all  to  God.  .  .  .  One  word  in  your  private 
ear,  about  what  I  wrote  you."  [He  refers  to  the  proposed 
alliance  between  France  and  the  Swiss  cantons,  of  which 
he  had  already  written  io  the  admiral,  saying,  "  I  am 
anxious  to  have  some  measure  adopted  in  favour  of  this 
poor  city,  that  it  may  not  be  exposed  to  pillage"  by  the 
Duke  of  Savoy.]  "If  you  see  the  matter  followed  up,  take 
care  that  we  are  not  forgotten.  You  have  higher  interests 
in  this  town.  By  seeking  its  good  you  serve  your  king. 
It  may  seem  a  small  matter,  yet  what  is  small  is  not  always 
to  be  despised."  This  is  proof  of  Coligny's  influence  at  the 
court. 

*  Discours  Merveilleux  de  Cath.  de  Medici  (Henry  Etienne?). 
Mem.  de  Condd. —  Von  Raumer,  Orig.  Doc. 

f  Also  named  M.  de  Monroy.  "Master  Jelian  Merlin  was  sent  to 
the  house  of  the  admiral  at  court,  wlio  had  written  to  have  a  person 
in  such  a  place." — RpgiMres  de  la  Companie,  A.  D.  1561,  quoted  in 
Bonnet's  notes  to  Calvin's  Letters.  For  the  above  correspondence  see 
Letters  to  the  Admiral,  28th  January-May,  1561, 


A    COXGUIiSS    AND    A    (•OLLOQ['Y.  235 

We  need  not  wonder  if,  in  the  excess  of  their  joy  over  the 
edict  of  January,  the  Protestants  occasionally  took  too 
large  a  liberty.  Yet  at  this  period  we  find  very  few  in- 
stances of  their  going  into  the  Koniish  churches,  singing 
psalms,  disturbing  the  priests,  overturning  the  mass-tables, 
pulling  down  images,  hurling  out  one  worship  and  bringing 
in  another.  The  chief  events  of  this  sort  belong  to  a  later 
day,  when  their  freedom  was  taken  from  them  and  they 
were  exasperated  by  oppression.  They  simply  came  forth 
from  their  retreats,  and  in  open  day,  on  public  squares, 
within  large  halls,  in  the  parks  of  the  nobles,  on  the 
grounds  around  their  mansions,  began  to  assemble  in  crowds 
to  hear  the  divine  word  and  render  praise  to  God.  It  was 
not  the  meeting  itself,  but  the  design  of  it  and  the  charm 
it  had  for  the  peo])le  that  gave  offence. 

Such  growing  boldness  was  a  theme  for  the  Triumvirate.* 
They  must  apply  the  check.  They  worked  through  parlia- 
ment the  edict  of  Jnhj,  after  twenty  days  of  argument,  and 
by  a  majority  of  only  three  votes.  It  partly  reversed  the 
laws  secured  by  the  chancellor  and  Coligny.  Houses  might 
now  be  searched,  meetings  therein  broken  up,  larger  assem- 
blies suppressed  and  heretics  punished  according  to  a  rule 
as  old  as  Cain  ;  but  the  punishment  must  not  be  severer 
than  exile.  The  Duke  of  Guise  declared,  after  the  vote 
proved  a  bare  victory,  "  To  maintain  this  edict  my  sword 
shall  never  be  sheathed." 

Even  this  fulmination  did  not  provoke  rebellion  among 
the  Reformed.  I)e  Crussol  reported  that  he  found  those  at 
Montpelier  living  in  "  great  obedience  and  reverence." 
The  Papal  legate  St.  Croix  praised  them  with  emphasis. 
He  wrote  to  Rome:  "In  Gascony  and  otlier  places  I  saw 

*  "Tlie  Canliiial  of  Lnria'mc  (lemandod  from  the  iiarlianiciit  of 
Paris  the  revocation  of  the  edict  of  January." — Fronde  Iluft.  of 
England,  viii.  3'JO.     Tliis  is  valiantly  denied  by  Maimbourg. 


236  AI>MIRAL   COLIGNY. 

no  mutilated  images,  no  broken  crosses,  no  deserted  churches, 
as  I  had  been  told  I  should."  If  the  haughty  Gascons 
were  so  quiet,  we  may  think  as  well  of  the  Protestants  in 
other  parts.  Still  the  Ti-iumvirs  hurled  their  bolts  wher- 
ever they  dared  to  strike. 

And  yet  all  was  not  undone.  The  great  onward  move- 
ment was  not  checked.  The  ice  was  melting,  and  who  could 
stop  the  torrent  of  freer  thought  ?  God  had  touched  men's 
hearts,  and  who  could  stay  his  hand  ?  France  was  to  have 
her  religious  council — not  a  Trent  affair,  at  which  Protest- 
ants dare  not  appear,  not  a  Westminster  Assembly,  to  which 
Romanists  were  not  invited — but  a  free  colloquy  for  all 
who  chose  to  attend.  Calvinist  and  Jesuit,  Lutheran  and 
Sorbonnist,  monk  and  missionary,  prelate  and  pastor,  all 
might  come  and  take  their  part.  It  was  not,  it  could  not 
have  been  a  purely  Protestant  affair.  The  times  forbade  it. 
A  very  moderate  class  of  men  secured  the  passage  of  this 
clause  in  the  edict  of  July  :  "  The  prelates  of  the  kingdom 
being  assembled,  safe-conducts  shall  be  sent  to  the  ministers 
of  the  religion  called  the  New,  in  order  that  they  may  in 
security  appear  and  be  heard  in  their  confession  of  faith  ; 
that  the  endeavour  may  be  made  to  convince  them  by  the 
Avord  of  God,  as  it  has  been  explained  by  the  doctors  of  the 
first  five  centuries  after  Christ." 

Some  members  objected  to  the  clause,  but  the  Cardinal 
of  Lorraine  "  assured  them  that  he  would  vanquish  the  said 
ministers  by  argument,  and  require  no  other  arms." 

Hence  the  colloquy  of  Poissy.  It  certainly  did  not  orig- 
inate in  a  challenge  by  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  to  the 
Protestants.  Nor  did  "  Theodore  Beza  snatch  eagerly  at 
the  gage,"  thus  making  the  challenge  a  fact.  Nor  is  it  a 
fair  statement  that  "  had  the  Reformers  in  France  made 
a  moderate  u.«e  of  the  opportunity  which  the  death  of 
Francis  created  for  them,  they  might  have  won  the  confi- 


A    CONGRESS    AM)    A    COLLOQUY.  237 

deuce  of  the  great  national  party."  The  "  moderate 
use"  was  evidently  made  by  them  in  the  steps  to  this  con- 
ference. 

It  is  easy  to  deride  tlie  doctrines  wliich  conscientious  men 
draw  from  Scri[)ture,  and  to  re])resent  true  zeal  as  fanati- 
cism. It  was  so  in  the  apostolic  days.  But  there  are  times 
when  the  missionary  needs  the  earnest  courage  of  the  war- 
rior. It  was  so  in  the  days  when  Peter  and  his  brethren 
rei)lied  to  the  Sanhedrim,  "  We  ought  to  obey  God  rather 
than  men."  There  are  times  when  the  Lord  "  sends  a  fire 
on  the  earth,"  and  when  men  whom  he  approves  are  charged 
with  too  great  earnestness,  and  even  with  a  revolutionary 
si)irit.  It  was  so  when  the  cry  was  raised  by  certain  people 
who  took  needless  alarm  at  the  advance  of  the  apostles,  and 
said,  "  These,  who  have  turned  the  world  upside  down,  are 
come  hither  also."  There  are  times  when  wise  men  need  to 
be  cautious  of  their  rebukes  upon  a  sound  faith  and  a  mar- 
tyr's zeal.  It  was  so  when  Ganuiliel  gave  the  warning, 
"  Lest  ha})ly  ye  be  found  even  to  light  against  God  ;"  and 
when  such  men  as  De  I'Hopital  thought  it  just  to  give  the 
Galvinists  a  little  space,  lie  kni-w  that  a  few  abuses  did 
not  prove  a  new  creed  to  be  "  exclusive,"  nor  a  new  zeal  to 
be  productive  of  anarchy. 

There  was  not  in  the  Reformers  of  France  all  the  toler- 
ance which  a  modern  historian  would  be  jileased  to  find.  It 
was  nowhere  found  in  that  age  as  it  now  exists.  Yet  these 
French  ministers  did  not  claim  to  have  exclusive  possession 
of  the  truth,  nor  come  to  Poissy  to  force  "Calvinism"  ujion 
France.  The  facts  prove  a  compromising  spirit.  There 
was  a  spirit  of  resistance  abroad — occasionally  one  of  vio- 
lence— but  these  ministers  had  not  kindled  the  flame.  The 
facts  show  that  it  was  not  fanned  by  the  cooling  breezes 
from  snow-girt  Geneva;  that  Calvin  Inisily  denounced  all 
violent  acts,  and   more   especially  the   taking   up   of   the 


238  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

sword  ;*  that  Coligny  and  the  religious  Huguenots  had  not  yet 
taken  it ;  that  the  political  malcontents  of  both  religions  first 
girded  it  at  their  sides ;  that  Conde  was  mainly  responsible 
for  such  attacks  as  that  upon  Lyons ;  and  that  it  was  any- 
thing but  a  Calvinistic  propagandism  which  led  to  the 
league  of  the  Triumvirate.  It  was  rather  the  propagandism 
of  Rome.  It  was  crafty  policy,  selfishness,  ambition  to  rule. 
The  pressure  which  provoked  was  that  of  Rome.  It  drove 
the  Protestants,  in  some  cases,  to  an  extreme.  Human 
tempers  will  not  always  bear  fiery  opposition  ;  strike  the 
cap  on  the  musket  and  the  powder  flashes,  the  ball  flies, 
and  there  may  be  a  death  in  the  crowd  which  sought  to  test 
the  aimless  weapon.  If  "  the  Huguenot  congregations  at- 
tended sermons  with  steel  cuirass  and  hand  on  sword-hilt," 
it  was  no  more  than  their  enemies  were  doing.  Even  priests 
had  worn  arms  in  churches  at  Geneva ;  doubtless  also  in 
France.  Amid  the  Indian  wars  in  America  gentle  minis- 
ters laid  their  pistols  on  the  pulpit  and  then  uttered  the 
gospel  of  peace.  Yet  they  were  not  intolerant,  nor  urging 
a  crusade  for  the  extermination  of  their  tawny  foes. 

The  colloquy  of  Poissy  was  not  a  Calvinistic  device.  It 
was  not  called  in  the  special  interest  of  Calvinism.  It  was 
not  the  work  of  Beza.  It  was  the  scheme  of  such  men  as 
De  I'Hopital,  the  Bishop  of  Valence  and  Admiral  Coligny. 
"  The  queen-mother  and  the  chancellor  greatly  cherished 
the  project,"  says  a  writer,  by  no  means  a  Protestant;  "she 

*  "  Certain  outbreaks  displease  us,  which  it  is  extremely  difficult  to 
moderate.  In  many  town?,  as  no  private  building  would  hold  the 
multitude,  they  have  usurped  the  temples.  And  though  they  are 
everywhere  preaching  all  over  Guienne,  without  any  public  disturb- 
ance, we  should  have  preferred  that  they  follow  a  line  of  conduct 
more  expedient.  Nor  are  they  dismayed  by  those  atrocious  edicts  in 
which  the  king  commanded  all  the  edifices  in  which  a  meeting  in 
held  to  be  razed  to  the  ground,  and  those  who  attend  to  be  punished 
as  rebels." — Calvin's  Letters,  dxciii.  24th  May,  1561. 


A    CONGKESS    AM)    A    COLLCKirV.  239 

in  the  hope  of  iiu'rea.suig  the  di.s[)ute.s,  iiud  he  iu  the  hope 
of  allaying  them."  * 

And  yet  Calvin  was  invited  ;  ^o  too  was  the  Cardinal  of 
Lorraine.  To  this  the  Genevan  lleformer  doubtless  refers 
when  he  says  :  "  The  (jueen-niother  did  not  hesitate  to  say 
that  all  remedies  would  be  useless  unless  I  were  sent  for."t 
Chandieu  wrote  to  him  saying:  "  It  will  be  perilous  for 
you  to  come,  so  great  is  the  rage  of  the  enemies  of  the  gos- 
l)el.  Your  very  name  will  be  used  to  exeite  trouble  in  the 
l)rovinces  if  it  be  known  that  you  are  at  Poissy."  The 
Genevan  senate  refused  to  let  him  go-X  Bcza  was  also 
urged  to  come.  "  Again  and  again  we  beg  you  to  send  him 
as  soon  as  possible,"  wrote  Antony  of  Navarre  to  the  sena- 
tors. "All  due  honour,  welcome  and  good  treatment  will 
be  shown  him,  such  as  his  probity,  learning  and  talents  re- 
([uire.  In  this  you  will  do  the  king,  the  queen-mother  and 
myself  a  very  special  favour." 

What  folly  for  the  Romish  writers  §  to  portray  a  young 
num  of  the  world,  witty,  rich,  tempted,  erring,  the  author 
of  a  volume  of  light  poetry,  a  husband  by  a  marriage  kept 
secret  for  his  uncle's  sake,  and  then  write  beneath  the  pic- 
tui*e.  This  is  Theodore  Bcza !  True,  he  was  such  a  young 
man  while  a  Romanist  enjoying  some  rich  benefices,  made 
over  to  him  ])y  an  uncle,  whom  he  dared  not  displease.  But 
he  was  turned  from  darkness  to  light.  A  serious  illness 
brought  to  his  conscience  the  teachings  of  Melchior  Wol- 
mar  at  Orleans,  where  they  read  the  Greek  Testament  to- 

*  Lacratclle,  GueiTOH  do  Tvclipion.  The  Jesuit  Maiiiibourc  says: 
"  It  was  a  sdicmc  concerted  lietwecn  the  queen,  the  admiral  and  the 
chancellor."  Iler  design  being,  "to  draw  to  her  side  the  admiral  and 
his  party,  against  the  chiefs  of  tlic  Catholic  cause." 

t  Calvin  to  BuUinger,  24lh  May,  lotU. 

X  Spon,  Ilisloire  de  Gen<?vc;  Senehier  ;  (iaberel. 

^  Such  as  Mairabourg  and  Audin. 


240  ADMIKAI.    COLIGNY. 

gcther.  To  his  teacher  lie  wrote :  "  As  soon  as  I  had 
strength  to  raise  myself,  I  broke  all  my  chains,  packed  up 
my  travelling  effects,  and  left  my  country,  my  kindred  and 
my  friends  to  follow  Christ.  I  went  into  voluntary  exile, 
and  retired  to  Geneva  with  ray  wife."  He  was  then  over 
twenty-nine  years  old.  On  his  journey  he  may  have  visited 
his  native  town  of  Vezelay,  where  his  ancestors  held  a  noble 
rank. 

He  had  left  all  for  his  new  INIaster.  In  his  poverty  he 
resolved  to  be  a  printer,  joining  with  him  Jean  Crispin,  the 
author  of  the  "  History  of  the  Martyrs."  Humble  enough 
to  enter  the  shop,  he  had  too  much  merit  to  remain  in  it. 
He  studied  theology,  became  a  professor  and  a  preacher. 
He  drew  the  attention  of  Calvin,  and  their  friendship  be- 
came ardent  and  lasting  till  death.  Invited  by  the  King 
of  Xavarre  to  Nerac,*  he  preached  throughout  his  little 
realm,  and  sought  to  educate  him  and  the  Prince  of  Conde 
in  the  peace  of  the  Gospel.  They  were  then  planning  war, 
and  soon  were  cited  to  court.  He  went  with  them  on  their 
way  to  Orleans  as  far  as  it  was  safe,  and,  turning  aside, 
escaped  by  nightly  journeys  to  Geneva. 

He  was  pushing  forward  the  new  academy  at  Geneva 
when  he  was  urged  to  appear  as  the  champion  of  the 
Protestants  at  Poissy.  But  the  senate  was  not  willing  to 
let  him  go,  unless  his  safety  was  ensured.  Calvin  tells  us 
how  the  affair  was  managed  :  "  We  could  not  obtain  a  safe- 
conduct,  as  they  call  it,  because  the  queen-mother  was  un- 
willing to  expose  herself  to  so  much  unpopularity  with  the 
pope.  The  King  of  Navarre,  however,  pledged  his  faith 
in  a  letter  to  our  council.  Privately  also  the  king  himself 
[Navarre],  his  brother  the  Prince  of  Conde,  and  the  ad- 

*  "The  20th  .July  our  brother  M.  de  Beza  was  sent  into  Gascony  to 
tlie  King  of  Navarre,  in  order  to  instruct  him  in  tlic  word  of  God." — 
Register  nf  Geneva,  1560 ;  Baum,  Theodor  Beza. 


A    CONGRESS    AND    A    COLI.tJQUV.  241 

miral  earnestly  urged  Beza  not  to  delay  any  lonj^er,  because 
ho  would  need  to  make  all  possible  despatch,  it"  he  wished 
to  arrive  at  the  proper  moment.  They  also  entreated  me 
rather  to  push  him  forward  than  to  retard  him."  Calvin 
secretly  rode  out  with  him  into  the  country,  and  afterward 
wrote :  "  Beza  has  set  out  without  a  safe-conduct,  and  from 
the  village  to  which  I  had  retired  he  was  escorted  by  my 
brother  to  the  nearest  relay  of  the  couriers,  that  he  might 
jiass  through  less  noticed  by  means  of  post-horses."* 

He  arrived  at  Saint  Germain  on  the  twenty-third  of 
August,  1561,  and  was  received  with  marks  of  high  esteem. 
Coligny,  doubtless,  looked  for  the  first  time  upon  the  man 
whose  stately  bearing  was  equal  to  that  of  any  of  the 
nobles,  whose  elegance  of  manners  was  a  passport  to  the 
court,  Avhose  learning  was  greater  than  that  of  any  of  the 
Huguenots  present,  and  whose  skill  in  argument  would  not 
suffer  in  a  contest  with  the  acute  Cardinal  of  Lorraine. 
The  next  morning  he  preached  in  the  saloon  of  the  Prince 
of  Conde  before  a  large  and  distinguished  audience,-  "  who 
heard  him  without  any  tumult  or  scandal."  After  night- 
fall he  was  invited  to  the  apartments  of  the  King  of 
Navarre.  No  one  greeted  him  with  more  delight  than  the 
heroic  Queen  Jeanne,  who  must  have  wished  for  a  friendly 
talk  with  him  about  the  good  John  Calvin,  whose  letters 
were  ever  welcome  to  her.  But  Beza  was  not  brought 
tliere  to  exchange  words  of  friendship ;  it  was  that  he 
might  be  measured  and  his  powers  gauged  by  his  future 
antagonist.  Queen  Catherine  gave  him  welcome,  and  in- 
quired concerning  Calvin's  age  and  habits  of  life.  This 
was  not  an  agreeable  subject  to  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine, 
who  was  not  long  in  saying,  "I  trust  that  you  will  remember 
that  you  are  a  Frenchman,  and  that  the  gifts  bestowed  upon 
you  by  the  pleasure  of  God  belong  to  your  country.     You 

*  Calvin's  Letters,  dciii.,  dciv. 
Vol.  1.— 21 


242  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

have  troubled  the  realm  in  your  absence ;  now  let  your 
presence  bring  peace  to  France." 

"  You  may  be  assured,  sir,"  replied  Beza,  "  that,  next  to 
the  service  of  my  God,  that  of  my  king  and  my  country 
are  most  dear  to  me.  I  have  never  been  important  enough 
to  trouble  so  great  a  realm  as  France,  and  I  am  too  insig- 
nificant to  restore  peace  to  her  people.  But  I  have  ever 
sought  to  render  her  good  offices ;  in  proof  of  this  I  refer 
you  to  my  past  writings." 

"Have  you  ever  written  anything  in  French?"  asked  the 
queen-mother ;  and  he  did  not  intend  to  let  slip  an  arrow 
by  replying,  "  I  may  name  my  part  of  the  version  of  the 
Psalms."  It  could  not  fail  to  remind  her  how  Marot's  part 
of  the  version  had  once  been  sung  in  the  palace  with  such 
enthusiasm.     He  also  referred  to  other  writings. 

"  There  lies  at  this  moment,  on  my  table  at  Poissy,"  said 
the  cardinal,  "  a  Latin  tract  on  the  Lord's  Supper,  attrib- 
uted to  you,  in  which  you  say  we  must  not  look  for  Christ 
bodily  in  the  elements." 

"  The  body  of  our  Lord  is  in  heaven,"  Avas  the  substance 
of  the  reply ;  "  but  by  the  bread  and  wine  Christ  is  truly 
administered  to  those  who  receive  him  in  faith."  A  long 
and  candid  discussion  followed.  The  cardinal  avowed  that 
he  did  not  press  transubstantiation.  It  is  suid  that  he  had 
some  hope  of  finding  Beza  open  to  the  temptations  of  ava- 
rice or  ambition  ;  and  if  such  a  man  were  converted  or 
silenced,  it  would  be  a  victory  to  the  cardinal  and  to  the 
Papal  Church.  At  length  he  said,  with  a  winning  air, 
"  I  am  glad  to  see  and  hear  you.  I  call  upon  you  iu  God's 
name  to  confer  with  me,  so  that  we  may  understand  each 
other.  You  will  not  find  me  so  black  as  I  have  been 
painted."     He  bowed  to  depart. 

iMadame  Crussol  took  him  by  the  hand,  saying,  -in  her 
free  manner,  "  You  have  shown  yourself  a  good  man  this 


A  coN(;ui:s.s  and  a  colloquy.  243 

evening,  but  what  will  you  be  to-morrow?"  Then  turning 
to  tlic  coinpuny,  .slie  said,  "It  would  be  better  to  bring  j)en 
1111(1  paper  and  have  the  cardinal  sign  his  admission.  To- 
morrow he  may  say  just  the  contrary."  And,  as  we  are 
told,  "she  guessed  rightly,  for  the  next  morning  it  was  re- 
ported that  the  cardinal  had  silenced  Beza  in  argument." 
The  queen  corrected  the  story. 

"  To-day  I  preached  at  the  adinirars,  who  kept  me  to 
dinner,"  wrote  lieza  to  Calvin  on  the  twenty-fifth  of 
August.  "After  dinner  dropped  in  the  Cardinal  de  Chatil- 
lon  and  M.  de  Montmorency  [the  marshal?],  who  I  see 
stands  well  affected  to  us,  as,  in  truth,  matters  are  now  set 
in  motion  with  a  wonderful  impulse."  In  another  of  his 
letters  he  tells  us  that  the  admiral  had  a  parrot  which 
kept  screaming,  "  Vie,  vie  !  la  messe  est  abolie — Life,  life ! 
the  mass  is  abolished.  Should  we  speak  of  God  every- 
where? Let  us  speak  of  God  everywhere."  It  is  not  pos- 
sible for  us  to  render  the  jingle  of  the  rhyming  words,  but 
tlie  sentiment  is  worthy  of  notice  as  a  proof  of  what  Co- 
ligny  would  teach  even  his  bird,  and  have  it  boldly  declare 
to  others.  The  parrot  was  not  likely  to  conceal  his  opin- 
ions, whatever  the  company. 

On  the  ninth  of  September  the  court  met  in  the  refectory 
of  a  convent  at  Poissy,  near  the  palace  of  St.  Germain.  It 
was  at  once  seen  that  the  Protestant  deputies  were  to  be 
treated  as  inferiors  and  sui)pliants.  They  were  not  invited 
to  a  council,  for  under  that  name  only  Romish  prelates 
must  be  summoned.  Great  care  had  been  taken  to  call  it 
a  col/uqiiy,  but  there  was  to  be  no  familiar  conversation. 
One  would  have  supposed,  from  the  grand  display  of  purple 
robes,  red  hats,  gold  lace,  feathers  and  jewels,  that  the 
court,  cardinals  and  clergy  were  met  in  the  convent  to  re- 
ceive a  dinner  from  the  nuns,  and  that  the  Protestants  were 
to  be  kept  out  until  the  second  table.     But  these  earnest 


244  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

Christian  men  cared  little  for  tlie  insult  of  not  being  ad- 
mitted on  the  footing  of  equality.  The  child-king  took  hiy 
place  on  a  throne  and  recited  the  opening  address.  The 
Chancellor  de  I'Hopital  made  so  excellent  a  speech  that  it 
gave  offence  to  those  who  needed  advice.  "You  are  assem- 
bled," said  he,  "  to  proceed  to  the  reformation  of  manners 
and  doctrine.  .  .  .  The  best  way  to  arrive  at  an  under- 
standing is  to  proceed  with  humility,  laying  aside  subtle 
and  curious  disputes.  There  is  no  occasion  for  many  books, 
but  to  fully  understand  the  word  of  God  and  to  conform  to 
it.  Do  not  esteem  them  to  be  enemies  who  are  said  to  be 
of  the  new  religion,  who  are  Christians  and  baptized  like 
yourselves,  and  do  not  condemn  them  through  prejudice, 
lieceive  them  as  a  father  receives  his  children." 

"  I  call  for  a  copy  of  the  chancellor's  speech,"  said  Car- 
dinal de  Tournon,  who  was  not  more  out  of  temper  than 
his  brethren.  "  A  reformation  in  doctrine !  The  word  of 
God  their  standard  !  The  Huguenots  fellow-Christians ! 
These  are  the  absurd  notions  of  a  man  who  ought  to  have 
the  great  seal  taken  from  him." 

"  My  remarks  were  made,  as  usual,  without  having  been 
written,"  mildly  replied  the  chancellor,  who  remembered 
Du  Bourg,  and  foresaw  the  censures  which  must  fall  upon 
himself  if  he  took  the  trouble  to  gratify  a  cardinal  in 
his  keen  search  for  heresy.  A  wild  scene  followed.  The 
colloquy  bade  fair  to  become  a  quarrel,  without  the  fault 
of  the  Protestants,  who  were  not  yet  admitted. 

At  length  order  was  restored,  and  a  signal  given  for  the 
captain  of  the  guards  to  usher  in  the  Reformed  deputies.* 

*  Beza  and  twelve  French  preachers :  Nicolas  de  Gallars,  Angustin 
Marlorat,  Francis  de  St,  Pol,  .lean  Malot,  Francis  de  Morel  ( Col- 
longes),  Nicolas  Thobie,  Claude  de  Boissiere,  Jean  Bouquin,  Joseph 
Yiret,  Jean  de  la  Tour  (chaplain  to  Jeanne  of  Navarre),  Jean  Merlin 
(Coligny's  preacher),  and  Jean  de  I'Espine  (a  converted  Dominican 


A    CONGRESS    AND    A    COLLOQUY.  245 

Those  men,  at  that  hour,  were  doing  the  bravest  thing  in 
Cliristcndoni.  At  their  side  was  a  sj)lendid  escort  of  two- 
and-twcnty  of  the  first  gentlemen  in  the  realm.  The  thir- 
teen ministers  wore  their  simple  black  gowns  and  Genevan 
bands — a  sober  costume  in  strange  contrast  to  the  gorgeous 
robes  of  the  prelates.  But  their  step  was  that  of  confident 
veterans,  for  if  they  had  before  them  the  fortified  citadel 
of  Romanism,  they  knew  that  God  was  above  them,  and 
behind  tliem  a  great  pait  of  the  Freneli  iiation.  Tiiey 
offered  to  enter  within  the  railings  and  take  seats  beside  the 
Roman  Catholic  doctors.  But  they  were  stopped — the 
mark  of  inequality  must  l)e  put  upon  them.  They  must 
sit  in  a  lower  place,  not  as  equals  in  a  colloquy,  but  as  per- 
sons accused  at  the  bar.  Very  well ;  they  sought  not  "the 
highest  seats." 

What  next?  Beza  addressed  the  king  in  words  like 
these:  "I  entreat  your  majesty  not  to  take  it  amiss  if  I  first 
have  recourse  to  the  Father  of  lights  fi)r  assistance  in  this 
important  moment  of  my  life.  The  enterprise  to  which  we 
are  called  is  beyond  our  strength."  Then  the  noble  band 
solemnly  knelt,  uncovered  their  heads,  and  Beza  lifted  his 
voice  in  prayer.  lie  confessed  the  national  sins  and  the 
sins  of  God's  own  people.  lie  toucbingly  recounted  the 
past  afflictions  of  his  brethren  in  the  lliith  and  their  perils 
at  the  present  hour.  He  enlarged  upon  the  hopes  which 
God  gave  them  in  their  young  king  and  bis  councillors. 
He  prayed  that  he  and  his  brethren  might  have  the  candour 
to  receive  all  truth  and  constancy  to  defend  it  to  the  last, 
and    that    their  discussions    might    bring    repose    to    their 

friar).  Peter  Martyr  came  afurwanl  from  Geneva.  A  cliarjje  lironght 
against  Kiizalieth  of  England  was:  "Money  was  given  to  C'assiotiorus 
to  enable  liim  to  be  present  at  the  conference  of  l*oissy."  Coiigny 
was  present  as  one  of  the  prominent  laymen.  Beza  relates  tliat  hi.s 
escort  from  the  palace  to  the  convent  numberotl  a  liumlrcd  horsemen. 
21  •; 


246  ADMir.AL   COLTGNY. 

afflicted  country.  Ilis  soft,  earnest  voice,  his  calm  manner 
and  his  spirit  of  love  powerfully  affected  the  Romish  dig- 
nitaries, who  seem  to  have  been  so  anxious  to  impress  their 
little  human  king  that  they  quite  forgot  the  groat  King  of 
heaven  and  earth.  These  men  so  gained  the  admiration  of 
the  spectators  that  it  was  wondered  whether  they  were  the 
impious  and  detested  heretics,  bitterly  denounced  the  even- 
ing before  as  little  less  than  monsters.  The  king  was  never 
so  awed, 

For  his  heart  and  the  hearts  of  his  people  were  moved 
As  the  trees  of  the  wood  are  moved  by  the  wind."* 

Beza  rose  with  his  brethren  and  addressed  the  king  and 
prelates.  He  would  not,  he  said,  attack  what  was  eternal — 
the  true  Church  of  the  Lord.  He  was  ready  to  correct  him- 
self, and  his  brethren,  if  any  error  should  be  found  in  them. 
He  would  rather  defend  his  OAvn  cause  than  assail  his  ad- 
versaries. "And  would  to  God,"  he  warmly  cried,  "that, 
without  going  any  farther,  instead  of  opposing  each  other, 
we  might  all  sing  a  canticle  with  one  voice,  and  hold  out 
hands  to  one  another !"  Enlarging  upon  the  doctrines  of 
the  Reformers  and  their  loyalty  to  their  king  and  their 
Divine  Lord,  he  prepared  the  way  for  an  act  of  great  moral 
su])limity.  Kneeling  again  with  his  brethren,  he  presented 
to  Charles  IX.  the  Confession  of  Faith  adopted  by  the 
French  churches.  It  was  the  substance  of  all  that  he  had 
declaimed  in  his  speech. 

A  deep  silence  had  prevailed  while  Beza  was  gently  and 
eloquently  defending  his  doctrines,  until  he  said,  "  If  any 
one  ask  us  if  we  hold  Jesus  Christ  to  be  absent  from  the 
holy  supper,  we  answer,  No.  But  if  we  refer  to  the  dis- 
tance between  places,  as  we  must  do  when  the  question  of 
his  corporeal  presence  and  humanity  is  considered,  we  say 

*  Isaiali  vii.  2. 


A    CONGRESS    AM)    A    ("()LL(  K^I'V.  247 

that  his  body  i.s  as  iiir  removed  troiu  tlie  hri:id  and  wine  as 
the  highest  heaven  is  distant  from  the  eartli." 

At  these  words  deep  murmurs  broke  out  in  the  ranks  of 
the  prchites.*  "  He  lias  bhisphemed  !"  exchiimed  some,  in 
their  indignation.  Others  rose  to  leave  the  hall.  "I  beg 
the  king  to  silence  him,  or  permit  him  to  retire,"  said  Car- 
dinal Tournon,  "or  dissolve  the  assembly." 

"Order!  order!"  said  the  king.  "The  speaker  will 
explain  himself." 

"  We  are  on  earth,"  continued  Beza,  cooled  by  the  very 
breezes  of  passion  ;  "the  body  of  Christ  is  in  heaven  ;  yet, 
if  any  one-  should  thence  conclude  that  we  assert  Jesus 
Christ  to  be  absent  from  the  holy  supper,  we  maintain  his 
conclusion  to  be  false.  We  affirm  that,  spiritually  and  by 
faith,  we  are  partakers  of  Christ's  body  and  blood,  even  as 
certainly  as  we  behold  the  sacrament  with  our  eyes,  touch 
it  with  our  hands,  place  it  within  our  li{)S  and  feed  on  its 
substance."  Thus  he  held  that  the  presence  of  Christ  is 
real,  but  yet  not  bodily  ;  it  is  spiritual.  We  may  not  ap- 
preciate the  importance  of  these  questions  in  that  age. 

After  some  displays  of  rage  on  the  part  of  certain  car- 
dinals, the  session  was  adjourned  for  five  days.  .The  Romish 
doctors  met  in  secret  to  collect  their  wisdom.  "  Would  to 
God,"  exclaimed  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  "  he  had  been 
dumb,  or  we  deaf!"  In  their  perplexity  they  selected  one 
of  their  number  to  answer  Beza. 

The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  brought  forward  again  his 
favourite  traj).  It  was  agreed  to  draw  up  a  confession  of 
faith.  All  the  papal  party  would  sign  it;  then  it  should 
be  presented  to  the  Protestant  deputies  for  their  signatures, 

*  "  I  was  upon  the  point  of  coinniamliiig  liiin  to  he  slU'iit,"  wrote 
(^iiccn  Catlierine  afierwaril ;  "but,  considering  tiiat  it  is  tiicir  Lii-toni 
to  t.ike  advantage  of  everything  for  the  confirmation  of  their  doctrine 
and  lest  an  interruption  migiit  bo  so  turned,  I  sufVered  him  to  proceed." 


248  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY, 

If  they  should  refuse — a  certain  event — a  blasting  anathema 
was  to  be  uttered  against  them,  and  the  discussion  closed, 
"  Compel  them  to  sign  it  or  exterminate  them,  for  France 
is  a  country  that  has  never  put  up  with  heresy."  Such 
was  the  demand  of  the  extreme  Romanists,  but  Catherine 
charged  them  with  a  perverse  desire  to  increase  the  troubles 
in  the  land.  It  was  thus  that  the  Roman  clergy  pretended 
to  confer  with  the  Protestant  ministers.  In  their  view  the 
colloquy  was  a  court,  and  the  Reformed  pastors  were  on 
trial  at  their  bar.  We  are  happy  to  find  that  there  were 
some  moderate  Romanists  who  opposed  this  outrageous 
measure  of  the  majority. 

The  Admiral  Coligny  was  ready  to  balfle  such  strategy. 
He  had  power  with  the  king,  his  mother  and  the  chancel- 
lor. We  may  surmise  that  it  is  his  hand  which  we  see  pre- 
senting a  complaint  to  the  king,  declaring  that,  "  if  the 
bishops  are  to  be  our  judges,  and  condemn  us  unheard,  it  will 
be  contrary  to  every  law,  human  and  divine.  We  are  here 
at  the  king's  invitation,  to  promote  peace,  to  confer  with 
our  opponents  and  to  quell  disturbances.  If  the  end  is  not 
gained,  ours  will  not  be  the  fault."  The  chancellor  prom- 
ised them  justice,  and  the  cardinal's  old  trap  was  overtui'ued 
without  a  victim. 

Other  scenes,  other  clashes  and  other  futile  schemes  of 
agreement  followed  in  the  hall  of  the  convent  at  Poissy. 
We  may  turn  from  the  debates  and  follow  Beza  to  a  wed- 
ding on  the  twentieth  of  September.  Queen  Jeanne  of 
Navarre  was  responsible  for  this  diversion.  She  resolved 
to  have  her  cousin  Rohan's  wedding  so  celebrated  as  to  let 
her  light  shine  upon  the  path  of  the  Huguenots.  Admiral 
Coligny,  Andelot,  Odet,  the  Prince  of  Conde  and  King  An- 
tony were  present  at  Argenteuil,  where  the  bridal  party  as- 
sembled. At  the  hour  there  appeared  before  Beza  the 
young  lord  Jean  de  Rohan  and  the  lady  Diana  de  Cany, 


A    CONGRESS    AND    A    COLLOQUY.  249 

Avlio  were  united  until  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew 
sliouki  consign  him  to  a  place  among  the  Protestant  mar- 
tyrs. The  Ihtiicr  of  the  bride  was  so  fierce  a  Romanist  that 
he  persecuted  his  wife,  who  was  a  firm  Protestant,  and  to 
whom  Calvin  wrote  several  letters  of  consolation.  Beza 
was  able  to  bring  her  good  tidings  from  Cieneva.  This  af- 
fair, performed  at  the  very  gates  of  Paris,  greatly  encour- 
aged the  Reformed  ministers,  and  weddings  "after  the 
fashion  of  Geneva"  came  into  vogue.  But  there  were  two 
results  of  historic  importance.  One  was  the  wrath  of  the 
legate  of  the  pope,*  just  arrived  to  say  that  the  "holy  fa- 
ther" was  extremely  provoked  at  the  holding  of  such  a  col- 
loquy as  that  of  Poissy.  The  other  was  the  trembling 
which  began  to  seize  upon  the  King  of  Navarre.  He  was 
falling  into  the  snares  of  the  Triumvirate.  The  papal 
legate  employed  his  wiles.  Poor  time-serving  Antony !  To 
no  man  was  he  more  indebted  for  his  very  life  and  his  high 
office  than  to  Admiral  Coligny,  and  yet  to  no  man  was  he 
about  to  be  more  false. 

We  return  to  Poissy  on  the  twenty-fourth.  The  Cardi- 
nal of  Lorraine  is  again  at  his  work  of  trap])ing.  He  is 
baiting  the  snare  with  the  Confession  of  Augsburg.  He 
will  play  Lutheran  in  order  to  destroy  the  Calvinists.  He 
has  sent  to  Metz  and  brought  certain  Augsburir  men, 
hoping  to  set  the  two  strong  Protestant  parties  agauist  each 
other.  This  has  failed.  Now  he  draws  a  paper  from  his 
pocket,  he  reads  some  articles  of  the  Lutheran  Confession, 
and  asks  the  Reformed  ministers  if  they  will  sign  them. 
They  request  time  to  reflect. 

*  Queen  Catlieiiiie  liad  taken  pains  to  prevent  the  pope  from 
liaving  an  early  knowledge  of  the  colloquy.  She  sent  couriei-s  in 
time,  to  avoid  blame,  but  she  also  ordered  her  agents  along  the  route 
to  waylay  them,  destroy  the  letters,  and  thus  avoid  having  a  legate 
present  on  the  occai*ion.  But  she  had  written  him  a  letter  (Aug.  4) 
which  astonished  him,  for  she  spoke  well  of  "  the  heretics." 


250  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

They  know  Culviu's  opinion,  often  expressed,  and  yet  so 
anxious  is  he  that  on  this  very  day  he  is  writing  to  Coliguy : 
"  Especially  I  entreat  you  to  hold  firm,  and  not  allow  the 
Confession  of  Augsburg  to  be  brought  into  the  question, 
■which  would  only  be  a  torch  to  light  the  fire  of  discord." 

Beza  finds  that  the  cardinal  has  garbled  his  extracts,  but 
still  they  are  not  far  from  the  truth,  on  the  Lord's  supper. 
Two  days  later  he  declares  to  hiui,  "  If  we  are  asked  to 
sign  this  document  as  one  party,  it  is  but  reasonable  that 
you  also  should  sign  it  in  the  name  of  your  party." 

"  We  are  not  equal,  and  are  far  from  being  so,"  rej^lied  the 
cardinal,  who  shrank  from  taking  the  very  medicine  which 
he  prescribed  for  the  Protestants.  "  For  my  part,  I  am 
not  called  upon  to  sign  on  the  word  of  any  master.  I  sub- 
scribe neither  to  the  authors  of  this  confession  nor  to  you." 

"Since  you  will  not  sign  it  yourselves,  it  is  not  just  to 
call  upon  us  for  our  names."  Then  came  two  fresh  cham- 
pions into  the  list.  One  was  Peter  Martyr,  the  celebrated 
Italian,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  Geneva.  Calvin  had 
urged  him  to  go  to  Poissy,  saying,  in  answer  to  his  objec- 
tions, "  If  it  be  not  yet  God's  pleasure  to  open  a  door,  it  is 
our  duty  to  creep  through  the  windows,  rather  than  allow 
an  opportunity  to  escape  of  bringing  about  a  happy  ar- 
rangement. I  learn  that  the  queen-mother  is  very  desirous 
of  hearing  you."  Queen  Catherine  heard  him  with  delight, 
for  he  spoke  in  her  native  language.  We  cannot  tell  how 
far  he  might  have  drawn  her  toward  his  opinions,  had  not 
the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  cried  out,  "  Let  us  have  nothing 
to  do  with  anybody  who  does  not  speak  French  ! "  It  ^vould 
all  have  been  well  enough  had  he  spoken  Romish.  The 
Protestants  were  on  the  eve  of  a  great  victory.  They 
almost  gained  from  the  Papists  the  five  following  admis- 
sions :  that  the  Holy  Scripture  was  of  higher  authority  than 
the  Church — that  the  true  voice  of  the  Church  was  to  be 


A    CbXGRESS    AND    A    COLLOQUY.  251 

heard  fruin  the  first  five  centuries — that  the  doctrine  of 
transubstantiation  was  not  essential  to  the  faith — that  some 
sects  outside  of  the  Roman  pale  were  to  be  recognized  as 
Christians,  having  a  lawful  ministry  and  proper  sacraments 
— and  that  the  French  Protestants  might  have  toleration 
in  the  kingdom.  Coligny  thought  these  admissions  would 
make  Poissy  glorious  for  liberty.  The  Chancellor  de  I'Ho- 
pital  imagined  they  would  prove  to  be  some  of  his  great 
stepping-stones  to  freedom  of  conscience  and  worship. 

But  another  fresh  champion  entered  the  field  as  the  re- 
serve corps  of  the  pope.  ( Did  he  speak  French  ?)  He 
was  Jacques  Lainez,  the  Spanish  general  of  the  Jesuits,  a 
company  of  .sappers  and  miners  just  seeking  admission  into 
France.  If  he  could  do  good  service  at  Poissy,  he  would 
ojjen  the  way  for  his  spiritual  troops.  He  began  on  this 
wise :  "  In  all  my  constant  reading  I  have  learned  that  it 
is  dangerous  to  treat  with  heretics  or  even  listen  to  them." 
(A  scholar!  he  will  set  us  right,  thought  the  perplexed 
bishops.)  "  I  beg  the  queen  to  understand  that  neither  she 
nor  any  human  prince  has  a  right  to  treat  in  matters  of 
the  faith.  Every  man  to  his  trade.  She  is  but  a  woma^i ! 
This  is  the  business  of  the  priests."  (Good  doctrine!  our 
king  and  queen  had  no  right  to  call  this  conference,  and 
have  no  power  to  harmonize  these  parties,  whispered  the 
cardinals.)  "It  is  the  business  of  the  queen  to  suppress 
heresy  in  tlie  name  of  the  pope,  for  these  people  are  wolves 
and  foxes  and  serpents."  The  Jesuit  thus  went  on  for  an 
hour,  uttering  "nothing  but  a  heap  of  abuse,"  pleading 
"  with  many  sighs  and  tears,"  and  often  provoking  laughter, 
l)ut  still  kindling  fierce  wrath  in  the  minds  of  the  Papists. 
He  finally  convinced  them  that  it  was  a  mortal  sin  to  admit 
Protestants  to  a  discussion,  that  the  pope  did  not  look  upon 
the  conference  with  the  least  allowance,  and  that  the  ses- 
sions must  ha  broken   up  at  once.     Even  Beza  could  not 


252  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

resist  the  fury  with  which  he  sjioke.  He  carried  the  day. 
The  colloquy  ended. 

The  next  day  the  Prince  of  Cond6  said  to  Lainez,  "  Do 
you  know  that  the  queen  is  very  much  incensed  against 
you  and  that  she  shed  tears  ?" 

"  I  know  Catherine  de  Medici  of  old,"  he  replied,  smiling 
and  delighted.  "She  is  a  great  actress;  but,  prince,  fear 
nothing ;  she  won't  deceive  me !"  The  Jesuit  knew  her 
policy ;  the  prince  still  imagined  that  she  had  principles. 

Catherine  saw  that  she  must  hold  the  powerful  party  of 
the  Huguenots.  Such  men  as  Coligny  entreated  her  to 
make  one  more  effort  for  toleration.  They  had  noted  her 
tears.  She  invited  a  little  party  to  meet  in  her  private 
apartments  at  St.  Germain.  Five  of  them  were  moderate 
Romanists,  such  as  Jean  Montluc  and  Despence.  Five  of 
them  were  Protestants,  among  whom  were  Beza,  Peter 
Martyr  and  INIarlorat.  They  all  sought  peace  and  tolera- 
tion. They  had  almost  won  the  day  at  Poissy.  They 
wrote,  struck  out,  interlined,  copied  and  recopied,  until  at 
last  they  hit  upon  certain  vague  phrases  which  every  one 
could  interpret  as  he  chose.  The  main  part  of  the  article 
agreed  upon  thus  reads:  "^Ye  confess  that  Jesus  Christ  in 
his  holy  supj)er  truly  presents,  gives  and  exhibits  to  us 
the  substance  of  his  body  and  blood  by  the  operation  of 
his  Holy  Spirit ;  and  that  we  receive  and  eat  sacramentally, 
spiritually  and  through  faith  that  very  bodj'  which  died 
for  us." 

"My  joy  is  unbounded,"  said  the  queen  to  Beza,  for  she, 
probably,  gave  the  words  no  sort  of  interpretation.  Others 
at  court  shared  in  her  delight,  without  her  treachery. 

"It  is  just  what  I  have  always  believed,"  said  the  Car- 
dinal of  Lorraine,  on  reading  a  copy  of  the  jiaper.  "  I 
trust  it  will  satisfy  the  Pobsy  divines."  The  historian  re- 
marks, "  That  he  uttered  these  words  is  quit^  certain ;  per- 


A    CONGIllvSS    AND    A    COLLOQUY.  253 

haps  he  tliought  that  ho  .sjtokc  trutli,  for  such  kind  of 
people  never  have  lei.sure  to  think  whether  they  believe 
or  not,  nor,  indeed,  to  think  at  all  on  what  they  think 
they  believe."  Yet  Lorraine  was  more  likely  to  be  crafty 
tiian  thoughtless. 

"It  is  captious  and  heretical,"  said  tlie  Sorbonnists ;  "let 
us  draw  up  a  confession,  and  if  the  Huguenots  refuse  to 
sign  it,  let  them  be  driven  out  of  the  kingdom."  They  drew 
up  their  formula,  but  how  far  they  drove  the  Protestants 
remains  to  be  seen. 

The  Reformed  ministers  returned  to  their  charges,  except 
Beza,  who  was  invited  by  the  queen  to  remain  in  France. 
She  allowed  him  to  preach  publicly  in  the  open  court  of  the 
palace  of  St,  Germain,  and,  large  as  it  was,  it  could  scarcely 
furnish  room  for  the  assembled  crowds.  This  was  the  signal 
for  a  general  rallying  of  the  Huguenots.  The  late  colloquy 
"  increased  the  audacity  of  the  Reformed,  and  the  people 
saw  the  number  of  their  churches  multiplied." 

Beza  wrote  to  Calvin :  "  By  the  grace  of  God,  we  have 
begun  to  found  a  church  here  (at  Saint  Germain) ;  and, 
God  aiding  us,  we  shall  celebrate  the  sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  supper  next  Sabbath.  .  .  .  The  Queen  of  Navarre 
ceased  not  to  ask  for  a  minister,  and  moreover  declares  that 
she  will  not  suffer  me  to  quit  her  court."  Geneva  urged 
Beza  to  come  back,  for  his  academy  needed  him ;  but 
Coligny  and  others  argued  that,  as  he  was  a  Frenchman, 
France  needed  him,  and  prevailed  on  the  senate  to  lengthen 
his  furlough. 

Even  the  children  of  the  royal  family  had  caught  the 
spirit  of  the  times.  Margaret,  who  became  the  wife  of 
Henry  IV.  at  the  time  of  the  St.  Bartholomew  massacre, 
gives  us  an  insight  into  tlie  household  of  her  mother  Cathe- 
rine. She  says:  "The  whole  court  was  infected  with  heresy, 
about  the  time  of  the  conference  of  I'ois.'^y.     It  was  hard 

Vol..  I.— 22 


254  ADMIRAL   COLIONY. 

for  me  to  resist  and  keep  inyiielf  from  a  change  of  religion 
at  that  time.  Many  ladies  and  lords  belonging  to  court 
strove  to  convert  me  to  the  wretched  Huguenotism.*  The 
Duke  of  Anjou,  since  King  Henry  III.,  then  a  mere  child, 
had  been  persuaded  to  change  his  religion,f  and  he  often 
snatched  my  Hours  [or  breviary]  out  of  my  hand  and  flung 
it  into  the  fire,  giving  me  instead  the  i)salms  and  prayers  of 
the  Huguenots,  and  insisting  that  I  should  use  them.  I  gave 
them  to  Madame  Curton,  my  governess,  whom  God  ca\ised  to 
keep  me  steadfast.  She  took  me  to  that  good  man,  Cardinal 
Touruon,  and  he  fortified  me,  giving  me  books  and  chaplets 
of  beads  in  place  of  those  which  Anjou  burned.  jNIy  brother 
and  his  friends  said  that  if  I  would  go  and  hear  the  ser- 
mons I  should  be  cured  of  my  bigotry.  He  threatened  me, 
and  said  that  my  mother  would  have  me  whipped.  But  he 
said  this  of  his  own  head,  for  she  did  not  then  know  of  the 
errors  he  had  embraced.  When  she  found  it  out,  she  took 
him  to  task,  severely  reprimanded  his  governors,  had  him 
chastised,  and  so  instructed  him  in  the  holy  and  ancient 
religion  of  his  forefathers  that  he  never  swerved  from  it 
afterward.  I  was  then  seven  or  eight  years  of  age,  and  to 
his  threats  I  said,  '  Get  me  whipped  if  you  can ;  I  will 
suffer  beating  aud  even  death  rather  than  be  damned.'  I 
could  furnish  you  with  other  proofs  of  the  early  ripeness 
of  my  judgment  and  my  courage,  but  enough."  | 

A  worthier  convert  was  found  in  the  celebrated  philoso- 
pher Peter  Ramus.§     He  was  the  son  of  a  poor  coal-dealer, 

*  La  nialliciireuse  Hiiguenoterie. 

f  The  Duke  of  Bouillon  asserts  that  the  next  brother,  Alen^on, 
"favoured  the  Religion."  In  either  case  it  was  a  mere  child's  incli- 
nation. 

X  M^moires  de  Margaret  de  Valois. 

?,  "  Le  plus  grand  philasophe  de  son  siecle." — Puaux.  lie  has  been 
called  the  forerunner  of  Bacon  ajid  Descartes. 


A    rONGT^ESS   AND   A    CCnA.OqrY.  255 

aiul  \\as  born  near  Noyon,  about  the  time  of  Calvin's  birtli. 
These  two  Picardins  might  have  sharply  discussed  the  doc- 
trine of  predestination  in  their  day  of  vigour.  The  lad 
Peter  forsook  the  coal-pits,  went  to  school,  grew  wiser  than 
his  teacher,  set  out  on  foot  for  Paris,  almost  starved,  won 
some  notice  from  an  uncle,  who  aided  him,  had  to  return 
home  to  support  a  widowed  mother,  and  had  strength  for 
the  study  and  labour,  all  before  he  was  fifteen  years  old. 
At  Paris  again  he  engaged  himself  to  a  rich  student  as  a 
servant,  and  entered  college  to  outrun  all  rivals  in  the  con- 
tests of  scholarship — now  daring  to  point  out  the  errors  of 
Aristotle  and  raising  a  war  among  the  collegians,  and  again 
coming  forth  from  a  severe  examination  amid  the  applause 
of  the  students.  He  read  the  Bible,  endured  persecution, 
fought  with  poverty,  became  principal  of  a  college  and  at 
length  heard  of  the  proposed  colloquy  at  Poissy.  Anxious 
for  light,  he  went,  listened  to  the  long  discussions,  wavered, 
l)ut  rallied  again.  Not  by  the  Scripture  quotations  of 
Marlorat,  not  by  the  warm  eloquence  of  Beza,  not  by  the 
arguments  of  Peter  Martyr,  who  knew  Rome  so  thoroughly, 
was  this  independent  man  convinced.  It  was  by  the  very 
ehampion  of  the  Roman  Church. 

"  Men  may  reproach  me  for  having  abandoned  the  faith 
and  worship  of  my  fathers,"  he  wrote  to  the  Cardinal  of 
Lorraine  some  time  after  the  colloquy  ended,  "  but  I  am 
used  to  reproach  in  human  things,  and  still  more  can  I  bear 
it  in  things  divine.  Not  for  my  sake,  but  for  your  benefit, 
I  apprise  you  that  I  was  led  to  the  holy  truth  by  your  own 
speech  at  the  colloquy  of  Poissy.  You  admitted  that  the 
first  centuries  of  Christianity  were  a  golden  age;  that  all 
since  then  grew  more  and  more  corrujjt.  In  choosing,  then, 
between  the  different  ages,  I  took  that  of  gold.  Since  then 
I  have  read  the  writings  of  the  Reformers  and  put  myself 
in  connection  with  them ;  also,  for  my  own  instruction,  I 


256  ADMIRAL  COI.IGNY. 

have  made  a  commentary  on  tlie  leading  points  of  doc- 
trine."* Sucli  was  one  of  the  results  of  Protestantism. 
The  martyr's  crown  would  be  given  him  on  the  awful  St. 
Bartholomew. 

It  was  plainly  shown  by  the  colloquy  of  Poissy,  that  only 
one  of  three  policies  was  possible :  1st.  To  bring  the  two 
great  religious  parties  together  by  mutual  concessions.  The 
colloquy  had  proved  that  this  was  a  vain  eftbrt.  Margaret 
of  Navarre  had  made  this  the  work  of  her  life,  but  had 
failed.  Her  daughter  Jeanne  now  declared  herself  an  un- 
qualified Calvinist,  completely  gained  by  the  arguments  of 
Beza. 

2d.  To  let  one  party  exterminate  the  other.  This  was 
still  the  policy  of  the  Romanists,  as  shown  by  the  edict  of 
July.  Their  old  maxim  was,  "  Two  religions  cannot  safely 
exist  in  one  state." 

3d.  To  allow  the  two  communions  to  live  peaceably  side 
by  side.  This  was  the  plan  of  the  Protestants  and  of  the 
chancellor.  They  asked  for  toleration,  Coligny  and  his 
noble  co-labourers  set  themselves  vigorously  to  work  to 
overthrow  the  edict  of  July,  and  to  obtain  another,  which 
would  lay  the  foundation  for  peace.  Their  success  will  cheer 
us  at  another  hour. 

*  Waddington,  Vie  de  Ram^e.  Another  great  convert  was  Carac- 
cioli.  Bishop  of  Troyes. 


CHAPTER    X  . 

THE    WILES     OE    THE    COVRT. 
(l.>01-1.503.) 

THUS  ended  the  famous  colloquy  of  Foissy,  the  first  and 
last  of  its  kind  in  France.  It  had  not  been  entirely 
a  failure.  vVs  usual  in  controversies,  each  side  claimed  the 
victory.  If  it  seemed  but  a  wind-cloud,  the  rain  came 
speedily  after  it.  It  gave  thousands  courage  to  ignore  the 
severe  edict  of  July.  If  the  Protestant  chiefs  might  preach 
at  court,  and  utter  their  belief  in  conferences  and  escape 
hanging,  why  might  not  the  people  have  their  own  worship 
in  their  houses  and  in  the  open  air? 

"  We  hardly  expected  to  see  our  pastors  again,  when 
they  tore  themselves  from  us  to  go  to  Poissy,"  said  the  peo- 
ple, who  wept  at  their  return,  as  they  had  at  their  depar- 
ture. "  And  it  seems  as  if  they  had  been  at  Pentecost,  for 
they  preach  with  the  tongue  of  fire."  It  was  the  signal  for 
an  advance  movement  in  all  (piarters.  Some  large  towns 
and  scores  of  villages  declared  for  Protestantism.  One 
pastor  wrote  to  the  veteran  Farel :  "  Three  hundred  parishes 
of  the  Agenois  have  put  down  the  mass.  Four  or  even  six 
thousand  ministers  are  needed  in  France." 

"  Build  yourselves  a  church  at  Rouen  outside  of  the 
walls,"  said  the  admiral  to  his  favourite  Noriuaiis ;  "I  will 
pay  for  it."  But  as  the  walls  rose  the  peojjle  had  reason 
to  remember  Sanballat  and  (icshem  the  Arabian,  with  their 
jests  about  the  fox  whose  tram])  would  shake  down  the 
very  stones  that  were  laid.  Thither  wont  that  tine  j)reacher, 
22  «  257 


258  ADMIRAL   fOLIGXY. 

Augustin  Marlortit,  to  declare  the  trutli  and  seal  it  with  his 
blood. 

Turning  to  the  south-east,  we  see  a  spare,  feeble  man  en- 
tering Nismes.  "  Wliat  is  this  Switzer  doing  in  our  coun- 
try ?  "  ask  certain  Romanists.  "  Has  he  come  here  to  die? " 
They  knew  not  that  he  had  been  poisoned  by  their  own 
party  twenty-five  years  before  in  Geneva,  and  again  beaten 
on  the  highway  by  villains  worse  than  the  thieves  on  the 
old  road  to  Jericho,  and  left  as  one  entirely  dead.  But  the 
next  day  he  drew  about  eight  thousand  people  to  hear  him. 
He  entered  the  pulpit,  some  whispering  in  pity,  "  He  will 
faint  before  he  gets  through."  His  physicians  had  told  him 
to  go  thither,  rest  and  breathe  the  fresher  air,  and  save  his 
life  for  the  cause  that  was  worth  it  all.  He  did  not  faint, 
nor  rest ;  nor  could  he,  for  he  was  Peter  Viret,  in  mildness 
the  Melanchthon  of  Geneva,  but  still  the  braver  man. 
Through  all  the  South  of  France  and  into  Navarre  his  own 
voice  rang  with  power.  Dying  daily,  he  yet  lived  to  a  good 
old  age.* 

And  thus  we  might  make  the  whole  circuit  of  France, 
and  note  the  surprising  growth  of  "  the  new  religion."  The 
Ileforraer  might  have  quoted  Tertullian  ;  "We  date  from 
yesterday — to-day  we  are  everywhere."  In  districts  of  Saint- 
onge  they  had  assembled  at  midnight  in  barns,  in  cellars, 
in  mountain  caverns  or  in  the  depths  of  the  forest ;  they 
had  listened  to  such  wonderful  men  as  Palissy  the  Potter, 
whose  genius  was  admired  by  those  who  hated  his  princi- 
ples ;  they  had  seen  the  bishop  "  fetch  certain  monks  of  the 
Sorbonne,  who  foamed,  slavered,  twisted  and  twirled  them- 
selves, making  strange  gestures  and  grimaces,  and  all  whose 
discourses  were  nothing  but  an  outcry  against  these  new 
Christians,  so  that  the  poor  people  allowed  their  woods  to 

*  Schmidt,  Leben  Virets.  The  early  Iiistory  of  Yiret  ha.=i  been 
traced  in  "  Wiljiam  Farel,"  Pres,  Board  of  Publication. 


thp:  wiles  of  the  cornT.  259 

be  cut  down,  and  tlie  wood.-^  being  eiit,  tbero  were  no  more 
good  preachers  ;"*  and  they  had  quite  given  up  all  for  lost. 
But  suddenly  a  secret  word  passes  from  one  U)  another;  a 
minister  has  come.  They  gather  to  hear  him,  half  in  joy, 
half  in  fright.  Bold  himself,  they  grow  bolder,  and  the 
open  day  rings  with  their  psalms,  and  the  sermon  closes 
with  the  setting  sun.  A  church  rises,  branches  shoot  out 
from  it,  the  pastor  finds  himself  the  Calvinistic  bishop  of 
half  a  dozen  parishes. 

Let  Catherine  de  Medici  bear  testimony  to  the  good  cha- 
racter of  these  people  in  her  realm.  In  the  letter  which 
she  caused  to  be  written  to  the  pope,  apologizing  for  her 
lenience,  and  calling  upon  him  to  devise  some  remedy  for 
the  evil  of  heresy,  she  had  said :  "  The  number  of  those 
who  have  foreaken  the  Roman  religion  has  increased  so 
greatly  that  neither  the  sword  nor  edicts  can  suppress 
them.  The  new  religion  has  such  power  upon  the  minds 
of  men  that  many  nobles  and  magistrates  have  embraced 
it.  And,  by  a  singular  favour  of  God,  there  are  among 
them  no  Anabaptists,  none  holding  monstrous  opinions,  nor 
any  who  oppose  the  apostles'  creed.  All  accept  the  doc- 
trines of  the  first  seven  general  councils.  Some  method 
ought  to  be  devised  to  recall  thase  who  have  left  the  Roman 
communion,  and  retain  those  who  still  continue  in  it  but 
who  demand  a  reform."  f  She  recommends  the  disuse  of 
"  forbidden  images,  exorcisms  and  suj>erstitions."  Sarpi 
says  she  wrote  with  "a  French  liberty"  that  vexed  the 
pope  to  the  heart. 

^licheli,  the  Venetian  amba-^sador,  who  made  good  use 
of  his  eyes  as  he  travelled,  reports :  "  In  many  provinces 

*  Morley,  Life  of  Palis.-;y. 

f  Kunionstraiict's  an  Pape  Pie  IV.  Tliere  is  gooil  reason  to  tliiiik 
this  lengtliy  paper  was  drawn  np  under  the  advice  of  llie  ehancellor 
and  such  men  as  the  Bishop  of  Valence  and  Cardinal  de  Chatillon. 


260  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

meetings  are  held,  sermons  preached  and  rules  of  life 
adopted  after  the  manner  of  Geneva,  and  all  without  any 
regard  to  the  king's  prohibition.  Every  one  has  embraced 
these  opinions — priests,  monks,  nuns  (for  scarcely  a  con- 
vent has  escaped  the  infection),  and  even  bishops  and  many 
distinguished  prelates.  Excepting  the  common  people,  who 
still  go  zealously  to  the  churches,  all  have  fallen  away ; 
the  nobles,  most  especially  those  under  fort}'-,  almost  to  a 
man  ;  for  although  many  of  them  still  go  to  mass,  it  is  only 
through  fear  and  for  the  sake  of  appearances.  When  they 
are  sure  of  not  being  watched,  they  shun  both  mass  and 
church.*  .  .  .  Religious  freedom  must  be  granted  them,  or 
a  general  war  must  come." 

What  was  the  relative  strength  of  the  Huguenots  at  this 
period  ?  The  question  is  difficult  to  answer ;  yet  we  may 
have  some  light  upon  it  from  men  of  different  parties.  The 
Romanists  had  put  the  number  as  low  as  they  could,  but 
the  Cardinal  St.  Croix,  a  sort  of  titled  spy  sent  out  by  the 
pope,  reported  that  "the  kingdom  was  half  Huguenot." 
Was  he  an  alarmist?  We  quote  again  from  the  court 
letter,  written  on  the  eve  of  the  colloquy  of  Poissy :  "  The 
fourth  part  of  this  kingdom  is  separated  from  the  com- 
munion of  the  [Roman]  Church  ;  and  this  fourth  part  is 
composed  of  gentlemen,  of  the  principal  citizens,  and  of 
those  of  the  lower  classes  who  have  seen  the  world  and  are 
accustomed  to  bear  arms,  so  that  the  separated  do  not  lack 

*  "In  the  suburbs  of  Toulouse  there  are  free  meetings  of  tlie  godly 
to  the  number  of  ten  thousand  men.  Indeed,  fifteen  thousand  have 
professed  the  Gospel.  In  Auvergne  the  nobility  still  rages  most  ob- 
stinately. In  Brittany  the  nobles,  almost  to  a  man,  have  embraeed 
the  Keform.  Also  in  Picardy,  but  the  populace  cannot  be  brought 
over.  In  Champaigne  and  the  district  of  Sens  they  are  rather  luke- 
warm. The  I'urgnndians  begin  to  show  a  bolder  spirit  (for  the  truth). 
Nothing  so  much  retards  the  progress  of  Christ's  kingdom  as  the  pau- 
city of  ministers." — Calvin's  Letters,  \2th  March,  1562. 


THE   WILES   f)F   THE   COURT.  2G1 

for  stronglli.  Nor  do  tlu-y  lack  for  wisdom  ;  for  they  have 
with  them  more  tluin  three-fourthn  of  the  men  of  letters. 
They  liave  Jio  want  of  nioiioy  to  carry  on  their  affairs,  hav- 
ing on  their  side  a  great  {)ropor.tion  of  the  Uirge  and  gcjod 
liouscs,  hoth  of  tlie  nobility  and  the  third  estate."  These 
statements  go  far  to  j)rove  the  mistake  of  those  historians 
who  assert  that  the  Protestants  fornied  but  a  tenth  part  of 
the  people.  In  the  wars,  wliieh  soon  followed,  the  tenth 
j)art  eould  not  have  so  long  resisted  the  other  nine. 

The  queen  requested  Admiral  Coligny  to  take  the  num- 
ber of  the  Reformed  churches.  He  presented  her  a  list  of 
two  thousand  one  hundred  and  fifty :  one  historian  adds  to 
it  about  five  hundred  more.  He  said  that  these  were  the 
organized  flocks,  under  regular  pastors.  Besides  these  were 
many  bands  of  believers  not  yet  gathered  into  a  church. 
All  these  i)eo})le  were  loyal  to  the  government;  they  ofiercd 
their  wealth  and  their  lives  to  the  service  of  their  king. 
But  they  asked  for  liberty  of  conscience  and  for  houses  of 
worship.  They  could  endure  the  edict  of  July  ;  it  allowed 
j)rivate  gatherings,  but  forbade  public  meetings,  and  could 
not  be  carried  into  effect.  Catherine  inijuired  what  numljer 
of  troops  they  could  furnish?  "  Whatever  thousands  you 
wish,"  said  Coligny,  who  thought  that  their  ]iatri()li>m 
might  bring  them  upon  a  footing  of  toleration.  She  saw  a 
possible  need  for  their  aid.  I'hilip  of  Spain  coolly  assumed 
to  be  the  especial  champion  of  popery  and  guardian  of 
France.  He  made  his  threats:  "Let  the  Huguenots  be  no 
longer  tolerated,  or  I  will  send  troops  to  assist  the  Catho- 
lics." Catherine  was  aroused  to  a  new  danger — that  of 
the  Spanish  suprenuicy.  The  Triumvirs  were  more  than 
willing  to  accept  the  otlc'rs  of  Philip,  and  she  must  see  that 
this  movement  was  checked.  She  sent  out  her  proi)osal,  to 
be  read  in  all  the  Huguenot  lussemblies,  "that  she  was  ready 
to  employ  the  Protestants  against  the  foreigners,  who  threat- 


262  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

ened  to  invade  the  kingdom  under  pretence  of  religion," 
Philip  must  learn  that  France  was  not  Flanders. 

"Tliankss  to  the  admiral  for  that!"  we  hear  Andelot  say; 
"  hut  if  the  queen-mother  wishes  us  to  make  war  for  her 
she  must  protect  us  in  our  worslii])."  He  would  bring  her 
good-will  to  the  test. 

The  Reform  movement  in  Paris  was  astonishing.  The 
ministers  had  come  down  from  Poissy  and  preached  to  vast 
assemblies  outside  the  walls.  Andelot  and  Conde  had  taken 
precautions  against  the  mobbing  tendencies  of  the  Parisian 
Romanists,  and  they  kept  about  the  worshippers  a  guard  of 
more  than  one  thousand  men.  The  preacher  took  his  place 
in  the  open  air,  around  him  were  the  women  and  children, 
then  armed  students  and  citizens,  and  then  horsemen  and 
the  chiefs.  A  less  military  look  might  have  been  prudent; 
it  might  have  been  less  safe. 

Beza  preached  there  to  audiences  of  eight  thousand ; 
some  report  five  times  that  number.  It  can  hardly  be  that 
"  the  guild-halls  were  opened  for  the  Calvinist  orators," 
but  we  may  believe  that  all  classes,  nobles  and  commoners, 
rich  and  poor,  crowded  to  hear  the  preachers.  After  one 
of  these  open-air  sermons  Beza  engaged  to  go  to  the  Prot- 
estant temple  in  the  evening  and  hear  the  eloquent  Malot. 
"  There  will  be  a  riot,"  said  his  friends ;  "  we  beg  of  you  to 
keep  away !"  He  yielded  at  first,  but  hearing  that  hun- 
dreds of  Protestants  had  already  assembled,  he  feared  that 
some  might  think  him  wanting  in  courage  if  he  did  not  go. 
Some  Protestants  had  just  been  insulted  on  their  waj'  from 
a  sermon,  and  the  Huguenot  gentlemen  resolved  to  clean 
out  some  of  the  rookeries  of  the  monks  if  the  like  was 
done  again.  They  gave  Beza  their  company,  two  thousand 
of  them,  perhaps  -with  Catherine's  consent,  for  Captain 
Gabaston,  a  Papist,  led  the  escort.  Scarcely  had  the 
preacher  begun  when  his  voice  was  drowned  by  a  clangour 


Tin:    WILES    OF    THE    COURT.  203 

of  l)clls.  The  priols  (if  the  iicij^lihniiriiig  church  of  St, 
]\[e(hinl,  outf<i(lo  the  walls,  were  pulling  every  rope  ami 
straining  ail  (he  bra.ss  in  the  bcllVy,  as  if  to  give  the  vespers 
a  Sicilian  character. 

One  of  tlie  Protestants  went  over  and  entreated  them  to 
cease  the  din.  High  word?  arose,  and  in  the  fray  he  was 
phot  dead.  The  bells  still  rang.  Other  messengers  came, 
saw  the  lifeless  body  of  their  comrade  and  raised  the  alarm. 
The  soldiers  rushed  to  the  sj)ot ;  a  thousand  swords  leaj)ed 
IVom  their  scabbards.  Andelot  rode  to  the  church,  staved 
in  the  barred  dooi-s,  entered  and  drove  the  priests  into  the 
tower,  whence  they  threw  down  missiles  and  sounded  the 
tocsin.  This  called  out  the  mob,  who  rushed  upon  the 
Protestants.  Beza  endeavoured  to  calm  the  tumult  and 
Malot  started  the  sixteenth  Psalm:  "Lord,  keep  me,  for  I 
trust  in  thee,"  and  then  went  on  with  his  sermon,  little  sus- 
{)ecting  that  the  "  temple"  would  be  in  ashes  within  twenty 
hours.  The  riot  was  renewed  the  next  day.  De  Thou  re- 
lates that  the  ])riests  broke  the  images  in  hurling  them  at 
their  enemies.  Beza  thinks  the  Huguenots  did  their  lull 
share  in  demolishing  statues,  relics  and  altars.  Perhaps 
fifty  persons  were  killed  and  wounded. 

Parliament  took  uj)  the  case.  Captain  Gabaston  had 
thrust  ten  priests  and  twenty-six  of  their  gang  into  prison, 
l)ut  they  wei*e  set  free.  The  ca])tain  and  three  of  his  police 
ordered  by  the  government  to  be  present  for  quelling  any 
possible  riot,  were  put  to  death  for  "assisting  the  Plugue- 
nots!"  that  is,  for  not  slaying  them.  INIany  citizens  were 
hanged  on  suspicion  of  heresy,  or  drowned  without  any 
form  of  trial.  Their  crime  was  their  effort  to  stoj)  a  street 
w'ar.  The  executions  were  continued  through  several 
months,  in  order  to  terrify  the  people.*  This  affair  sealed 
the  fate  of  the  edict  of  July,  which  the  chancellor  and  the 
*  Mc^in.  lie  ("oiidi';  Oc'Tlioii. 


264  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

admiral  liaa  laboured  to  overthrow.  Strange  that  this 
violent  pr(<cceding  should  be  so  managed  as  to  become  a 
means  of  greater  liberty  ! 

Tliis  was  not  the  only  outbreak  of  popular  fury  in  Fi'ance. 
The  Reformed  of  Dijon  were  at  worship  when  tlie  mob 
arose,  rang  the  bells  and  made  the  attack.  But  the  armed 
Huguenots  used  force  against  force.  The  rioters,  finding 
the  war  too  severe  in  that  quarter,  fell  to  plundering  the 
houses  of  the  citizens.  At  Cahors  the  tocsin  was  sounded, 
the  Romanists  gathered,  shut  the  Protestants  up  in  their 
temple  and  then  set  it  on  fire.  The  poor  worshippers,  for- 
cing their  way  through  smoke  and  flame,  were  cut  down  by 
tlie  savages  or  outraged.  Those  who  were  smothered  in 
the  building  perished  with  the  less  shame  and  agony. 
Armed  bands  entered  certain  towns,  shut  the  gates  and 
revelled  in  the  pillage  and  murder  of  the  "  hated  sec- 
tarians." 

Catherine  was  alarmed,  not  for  the  Protestants,  but  for 
herself.  The  bishops  cried,  "  Expel  these  preachers  from 
the  kingdom,  and  if  any  remain  slay  them."  She  saw  that 
this  course  would  lead  to  a  civil  war,  and  probably  drive 
her  from  France.  She  had  gone  too  far  for  such  measures, 
for  she  had  openly  given  liberty  to  Beza  and  invited  Hu- 
guenot aid.  At  once  she  called  a  council  of  deputies  from 
the  several  parliaments  to  meet  her  at  St  Germain.  In  this 
unexpected  call  the  voices  of  the  chancellor  and  the  admiral 
were  not  publicly  heard. 

The  chancellor  came  forward  with  his  liberal  views — that 
the  two  religions  must  exist  together  in  France,  that  the 
State  had  to  deal  with  men  as  citizens  and  not  as  Christians, 
that  the  king  ought  not  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  one  of 
the  strong  religious  parties,  that  edicts  of  threatening  and 
terror  were  in  vain,  and  that  the  one  great  remedy  for  ex- 
isting evils  was  to  legalize  the  meetings  of  the  Protestants. 


THE    WILES    OF    THE    COURT.  265 

These  views  prevailed  so  fur  as  to  seen  re  another  and 
milder  Edict  of  Jaimary. 

"  Not  so  much  granted  to  us  as  is  due,"  said  some  of  the 
Huguenots,  who  had  hoped  for  a  recognition  of  equality. 
"  We  must  restore  all  churches  peaceably  taken  from  the 
Catholics,  even  if  they  remain  cni])ty.  AVe  must  surrender 
to  them  all  proi)erty  which  they  have  yielded  to  us.  We 
are  f(irbidden  to  build  churches  for  purselves,  and  even  to 
meet  for  public  worship  within  the  town  walls." 

"  Very  true,"  replied  Coligny  and  his  co-workers,  who 
knew  how  to  estimate  their  new  privileges.  "You  forget 
that  only  yesterday  we  were  a  mere  sect,  utterly  proscribed, 
abhorred  and  hunted  down  by  both  the  Church  and  State. 
You  fail  to  see  that  to-day  we  are  recognized  as  a  great  re- 
ligious body,  having  some  rights — " 

"  Rights!"  exclaimed  some,  who  took  advantage  of  the  ad- 
miral's slow  speech.     "  Where  are  they  granted  to  us?" 

"  It  is  never  wise  to  be  too  clamorous  for  our  rights," 
said  the  admiral.  "  Let  us  use  well  what  we  have,  and 
tlic  rest  may  come.  We  have  a  right  to  meet  unarmed 
outside  of  the  walls  or  limits  of  the  towns;  we  may  collect 
money  to  support  our  pastors ;  we  may  hold  synods  with 
the  consent  of  the  king;  we  may  have  preached  to  us  all 
the  doctrines  of  the  Nicene  creed,  and  this  sanctions  all 
the  doctrines  of  the  holy  Scriptures ;  and  if  our  ministers 
are  not  allowed  to  attack  the  errors  of  the  Papists,  they  can 
give  us  the  more  truth.  There  are  other  points  of  restraint, 
but  let  us  even  turn  them  into  privileges,  and  become  more 
gentle  and  submissive.  By  all  means  let  us  avoid  quarrels, 
riots  and  civil  war." 

"But  how  long  are  these  privileges  to  last?"  inquired 
certain  Huguenots,  still  doubtful  whether  they  had  gained 
anything  by  the  edict. 

"  Until  the  calling  of  a  general  council,  and  that  may  be 
Vol.  I.— 23 


266  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

left  to  the  queen.  If  so,  we  hope  to  secure  her  favour  so 
that  the  council  will  grant  us  even  larger  liberty."  With 
this  understanding  the  Protestants  began  to  feel  that  Co- 
ligny  and  the  chancellor  had  done  them  great  service. 
But  how  could  whole  cities  in  Southern  France  go  and  wor- 
ship outside  their  walls?  Why  restore  churches  whose 
priests  had  forsaken  the  pulpits  and  whose  people  had  been 
converted  to  the  true  faith  ?  Why  leave  them  closed  with- 
out a  Papal  worshipper  ?  However,  Beza  and  his  colleagues 
advised  tlie  Huguenots  to  observe  the  edict.  They  gener- 
ally heeded  the  advice,  and  this  edict  of  January,  1562, 
proved  "  the  palladium  and  charter  of  the  Protestants."* 
The  heroic  Theodore  Agrippa  D'Aubigne  regarded  it  as  a 
crowning  effort  as  he  looked  back  upon  its  workings,  and 
he  described  it  as  an  edict  "  not  contested  between  party 
and  party,  but  granted  by  the  most  celebrated  assembly  of 
worthies  seen  in  France  for  years  before  or  since."  Let 
due  credit  be  given  to  De  I'Hopital  and  Coligny,  who  had 
great  power  over  the  wily  Catherine. 

What  said  the  opposite  party?  The  Guises  had  been 
sent  on  a  mission  to  Germany,  but  of  course  they  protested 
against  the  edict.  The  Guisards  made  every  effort  to  per- 
suade the  parliaments  not  to  register  it  as  a  law.  The  more 
violent  clergy  still  cried,  "  If  the  nobles  will  not  strike,  the 
people  must  do  it,  brother  against  brother.  Ties  of  blood 
are  made  void  by  heresy.  If  you  do  not  fall  upon  the  Hu- 
guenots, you  have  no  religion."  Even  Brulart,  the  chroni- 
cler, declared  that  the  measure  was  "  a  wholesale  approval 
of  that  wretched  Calvinistic  sect,  and  utterly  pernicious  to 
the  realm."  The  warrior  Tavannes  resisted  it  in  Burgundy, 
driving  from  Dijon  a  large  number  of  the  Reformed — some 
say  two  thousand.     He  issued  orders  for  the  peasantry  "  to 

*  "  If  the  liberty  promised  in  this  edict  be  maintained,  Popedom 
must  fall  of  its  own  accord." —  CcUvin  to  Sturm,  March,  1562. 


THE    WlhES    OF    THE    COURT.  267 

massacre  all  who  prayed  elsewhere  than  in  the  churches, 
and  to  deny  food,  drink  and  shelter  to  the  expelled  rebels." 
Under  a  fir  tree  at  Aix  the  Huguenots  had  met  for  worship 
outside  the  walls.  What  horror  for  them  to  find  every 
morning,  for  weeks,  men  and  women  hanging  from  its 
branches !  In  the  night  the  nuid  officials  had  allowed  the 
work  of  terror  to  be  done.  Thus  priest,  scholar  and  war- 
rior hissed  on  the  mob.  The  parliament  of  Dijon  gave  heed 
to  them  and  refused  to  approve  of  the  edict.  The  parlia- 
ment of  Paris  declined,  but  the  queen  commanded,  and  it 
was  finally  entered,  "  without  approving  the  new  religion." 
But  nobly  was  it  endorsed  by  the  parliaments  of  Bordeaux, 
Toulouse,  Rouen  and  Grenoble. 

Castlenau  paints  the  success  of  the  Huguenots,  without 
dipping  his  pen  in  Papal  gall,  and  says,  "Then  the  minis- 
ters of  the  new  religion  began  to  preach  more  boldly,  here 
and  there — some  in  the  fields,  others  in  gardens,  openly  in 
every  place  whithersoever  afl!ection  or  passion  led  them,  or 
where  they  could  find  shelter,  as  in  old  ruined  buildings,  or 
even  barns.  .  .  .  The  people,  curious  of  novelties,  flocked 
from  all  parts.  Catholics  as  well  as  Protestants — some  to 
see  the  modes  of  this  new  worship ;  some  to  warn  the  wor- 
shippers. .  .  .  They,  discoursed  in  French,  quoting  no  Latin 
and  few  texts  of  Scripture ;  they  commonly  began  their 
sermons  by  speaking  against  those  abuses  in  the  Church 
which  no  prudent  Catholic  could  defend.  .  .  .  After  their 
sermons  they  prayed,  and  sang  psalms  in  French  rhyme, 
with  music  and  numerous  good  voices,  by  which  they  at- 
tractled  all  who  were  fond  of  novelty,  and  many  were  much 
edified,  so  that  their  number  increased  every  day.  .  .  .  They 
would  administer  the  sacrament  after  a  foshion  of  their 
own.  After  their  talk  about  reforming  abuses  they  dis- 
tributed alms,  which  looked  very  specious  to  the  outsiders, 
and  drew  many  from  the  Catholic  party." 


268  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

This  candid  and  devout  chronicler  does  not  withhold  the 
fact  that  "  the  Catholic  clergy"  profited  by  the  excellent 
lesson  taught  them.  The  priests  and  bishops,  "  led  by  the 
force  of  example,  imitation  or  the  desire  of  improvement, 
began  to  consider  well  the  methods  of  the  new  preachers, 
and  to  take  more  care  of  their  own  flocks,  and  to  attend  to 
their  duties.  Some  began  to  study  the  holy  writings,  lest 
the  Protestant  ministers  should  have  an  advantage  over 
them.  They  began  to  preach  more,  and  warn  the  people 
against  heresies  and  novelties  in  religion." 

Here  we  have  one  of  the  first  notices  of  the  Jesuits  in 
France — that  new  order  of  men  who  brought  into  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Roman  Church  earnestness  and  self-sacrifice,  a 
willingness  to  carry  the  faith  into  burning  India  or  frozen 
Siberia,  a  stealth  by  which  they  crept  into  royal  courts  and 
drew  princes  into  their  snares,  or  even  slipped  into  the 
strongholds  of  Protestantism  and  took  a  seat  among  the 
councillors,  a  craft,  a  disguising  of  motives,  an  accommoda- 
tion to  circumstances,  and  a  policy  so  plastic  that  it  could 
readily  be  shaped  for  any  latitude,  any  state  of  society,  and 
every  class  of  men.  Taking  upon  them  the  name  of  the 
Holy  One  Incarnate,  they  so  perverted  it  from  all  candour 
and  honest  purpose  that  the  name  of  Jesuit  has  come  to 
mean  a  smiling  hypocrite,  a  shrewd  charmer,  an  intriguer, 
smooth-tongued  and  doubled-faced.  Jesus  declared,  "  I 
spake  openly  to  the  world ;  in  secret  have  I  said  nothing;" 
the  Jesuit  did  all  in  secret,  and  never  spake  Avhat  he  meant 
until  he  was  sure  that  his  arts  had  prevailed. 

Father  Lainez  had  thrown  confusion  into  both  camps  St 
Poissy,  so  that  the  result  might  appear  a  drawn  battle. 
Planting  his  own  banner  on  the  field,  he  sent  forth  the 
rallying-cry  to  the  soldiers  of  his  own  order.  They  must 
invade  France,  and  do,  by  whispering  and  seducing,  w^hat 
Lorraine  could  not  by  his  inquisition.     They  must  have  at 


Tin:  WILES  or  the  court.  269 

Paii:>  a  training-school,  a  college,  a  hospital,  and  all  the 
machinery  devised  by  Ignatius  Loyola.  They  must  have 
their  spies  at  every  court,  their  teachers  over  every  young 
heir  to  a  throne,  their  politicians  in  every  cabinet,  their 
share  of  bishops  and  cardinals  in  every  election,  and  their 
sappers  undermining  every  fortress  that  was  the  refuge 
and  defence  of  liberty.  All  of  which  came  about  in  due  ' 
time.* 

While  the  Protestants  were  so  active,  says  Castelnau, 
"  the  Jesuits  likewise  and  monks  mounted  the  pulpit  much 
oftcner,  and  went  through  the  cities,  villages,  and  even  to 
l)rivate  houses,  warning  the  people  against  the  Reformed 
doctrines,  and  the  bishops  sent  to  Rome  for  imlulgences;  and 
some  did  not  scruple  to  say  that  it  was  expedient  to  prevent 
the  Protestants  from  preaching,  since  the  government  took 
no  notice  of  them.  These  proceedings  put  a  great  stop  to 
the  i)rogress  of  the  Reformed  teachers.  When  the  Catho- 
lics came  to  know  that  the  King  of  Navarre  had  left  the 
Reformed  party,  and  that  he  struck  in  with  the  Guises,  the 
constable  and  the  Marshal  St.  Andre  (the  Triumvirate), 
they  began  to  feel  more  secure."  f  Their  great  reliance 
was  the  civil  arm  ;  that  of  the  truer  Protestants  had  been 
God  alone,  and  had  it  so  continued  with  them  all,  very  dif- 
ferent would  have  been  the  results. 

Every  holy  cause  may  have  its  Jehu,  its  zealots  who  put 
their  true  leaders  in  alarm.  "  I  fear  our  friends  more  than 
our  foes,"  said  Beza,  Avhen  denouncing  the  acts  of  certain 
Huguenots  at  Monti)ellier.  To  Calvin  he  wrote,  soon  after 
the  January  edict:  "You  will  scarcely  believe  how  intem- 
perate our  people  are,  as  if  they  wanted  to  rival  our  ene- 
mies in  impatience."  Calvin  deplored  these  disorders,  while 
glancing  toward  the  brighter  side:  "  I  dare  scarcely  alhulu 

*  Niccolini,  History  of  the  Jesuits;  Ilimko,  History  of  tlie  Popes, 
f  Memoircs  de  Ciusteliiiui,  bk.  iii.  5,  G. 
23  * 


270  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

to  the  affairs  of  France,  they  are  iu  such  confusion.  The 
number  of  the  godly,  however,  increases  daily.  The  alac- 
rity and  zeal  are  astonishing.  But  the  fickleness  of  one 
man  (Navarre)  is  the  reason  why  the  parliament  of  Paris 
assails  Christ  with  such  obstinate  fury."  * 

The  position,  then,  of  Antony  of  Navarre  was  thought  to 
be  of  great  importance.  All  parties  looked  to  him  with 
interest;  and  the  more,  perhaps,  because  he  was  a  mere 
tool,  to  be  used  by  those  who  happened  to  have  the  mastery. 
He  was  unstable  as  water.  He  changed  with  the  wind ; 
his  very  shadow  put  him  in  fear.  He  was  not  a  man  to  be 
left  to  his  principles,  for  he  had  none ;  and  therefore  the 
Protestants  were  anxious  about  him.  He  was  not  a  man  to 
withstand  the  soft  temptations,  for  he  was  worse  than  weak  ; 
therefore  the  other  party  caressed  him.  AVith  ability  to 
serve  his  country,  he  had  power  to  ruin  her.  It  requires 
less  talent  to  do  evil  than  to  do  good,  and  small  is  the 
capacity  necessary  for  mischief. 

We  remember  how  Coligny  had  a  hand  in  saving  the 
King  of  Navarre,  in  getting  him  into  the  royal  cabinet  and 
into  the  position  of  a  Protestant  chief.  It  seems,  too,  that 
Coligny  would  have  urged  the  States-general  to  appoint  him 
regent,  had  not  Antony  been  such  an  incompetent  prince. 
The  Protestants  relied  too  greatly  upon  Navarre.  Calvin 
wrote  to  him,  nurtured  his  faith,  rebuked  his  faults,  warned 
him  of  his  dangers,  sent  Beza  to  prop  him  up,  begged, 
argued,  scolded — all  in  vain.  AH  the  serjnons  and  conver- 
sations of  Beza  were  lost  upon  him.  All  the  tears  and 
entreaties  of  his  noble  wife  were  nothing  to  him.  Year* 
before  he  sought  to  lead  her  to  an  open  avow'al  of  the  truth, 
but  just  now,  when  she  publicly  declares  herself  a  Calvinist, 

*  Calvin's  Letters,  dcxxv.  The  amount  of  correspondence  about 
Antony  of  Xavarre,  and  the  letters  to  him,  show  how  much  was  to  be 
gained  or  lost  by  his  conduct. 


THE    WILES    OF    THE    COURT.  271 

lie  renounces  the  iUilli,  and  iibandons  all  that  love  or  re- 
ligion had  made  sacred. 

The  story  is  too  long,  too  full  of  infamy.  Every  art  \va.s 
employed  to  ruin  a  man  who  had  some  of  the  qualities  of  a 
successful  warrior  and  to  kindle  his  vain  desire  for  power. 
But  he  must  forsake  the  noble  Jeanne.  The  pope  would 
annul  the  nuirriage.  The  Guises  at  court  took  him  by  the 
hand  as  their  "  good  cousin,"  and  whispered  to  him  that  he 
might  marry  their  niece,  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots;  and  thus 
they  held  the  crown  of  Scotland  before  his  eyes.  The 
legate  of  King  Philip,  who  wished  to  get  the  kingdom  of 
Navarre  into  his  hands,  laid  before  him  beautiful  maps  of 
Sardinia,  and  in  glowing  colours  painted  the  richness  of  the 
island  and  the  glory  of  being  the  king  thereof.  Satan  was 
saying,  "All  this  is  thine,  if  thou  wilt  renounce  the 
Protestant  faith  !" 

The  vast  Papal  machinery  was  put  to  the  utmost  strain 
in  order  to  bring  about  what  jNIaiinbourg  calls  "the  beau- 
tiful conversion"  of  the  King  of  Navarre.  This  mountain 
must  be  removed,  and  to  the  work  were  applied  the  inge- 
nuities of  the  council  of  Trent.  Sarpi  tells  us,  that  as 
"  this  prince  favoured  o])enly  the  new  religion,  and  was 
governed  entirely  by  the  advice  of  Admiral  Coligny,"  and 
as  the  Protestants  were  full  of  hope  in  obtaining  liberty  of 
conscience,  "the  pope  was  thrown  into  great  disquietude;" 
he  must  "  bridle  the  Protestants ;"  hv  must  engage  Philip 
of  Spain  in  the  business ;  he  must  have  Jeanne  d'Albret 
})ut  under  the  ban  as  a  heretic,  and  divorced;  he  must 
rause  all  Romish  Europe  to  perceive  the  magnitude  of  the 
work,  and  must  see  that  this  pivot,  on  which  all  must  turn, 
be  so  inclined  that  France  would  swing  over  into  the  old 
Papal  domain.  With  great  care,  in  the  neiit  hand  of  the 
period,  was  prepared  "  a  brief  of  those  things  which  were 
called  into  consultation  in  that  holy  council  of  Trent,  .  .  . 


272  ADMIRAL    COI.IGXY. 

first  against  tlie  King  of"  Navai-re,  because  lie  doth  not  well 
govern  the  affairs  of  Charles  his  ward,  King  of  France,  and 
is  an  author  of  spreading  abroad  that  new  Calvinist  sect  in 
France.  .  .  .  That  the  matter  may  be  performed  with 
greater  authority,  they  have  thought  good  that  Catholic 
King  Philip  should  be  the  chief  in  the  whole  business,  and 
have  created  him  the  chief  head  and  captain  of  this 
matter."  Philip  was  to  take  the  little  kingdom  of  Navarre 
from  him  and  his  family.  "  The  Duke  of  Guise  shall  pro- 
fess himself  tlie  head  of  the  Catholic  faction,  and  levy  an 
army  of  chiefest  men.  .  .  .  The  business  of  rooting  out  the 
new  religion  shall  be  committed  to  him,  and  he  shall  ut- 
terly root  out  the  house  of  Bourbon  and  all  that  name,  lest 
of  that  stock  should  come  some  one  to  take  revenge  and 
raise  again  this  new  religion."  Geneva  was  to  be  attacked, 
and  everybody  there  slain  or  drowned  in  the  lake.  Guise 
was  to  kill  "rich  and  mighty  men,"  to  get  money  for  the 
expenses.  Such  were  some  of  the  plottings  of  the  council 
of  Trent.* 

Poor  weak  Antony,  tempted,  seduced,  dazzled  and  be- 
fooled, warned  and  threatened,  sold  his  conscience  for  a 
kingdom  in  the  clouds.  He  gave  himself  into  the  hands 
of  the  Triumvirate,  of  bad  women,  and  of  lying  legates 
sent  by  the  pope  and  by  Philip.  He  avowed  himself  a 
Romanist,  He  was  then  made  to  understand  by  Si)ain 
that  he  must  show  his  sincerity  by  driving  "those  pests," 
the  Chatillons,  from  the  court.  This  he  could  not  do ;  he 
dared  not  attempt, 

"  We  shall  win  the  whole  of  them  yet,"  said  this  band 
of  tempters,  "except  the  Coligny  brothers,  and  we  can  settle 
them  at  their  homes."  Already  had  they  wrought  upon  the 
Prince  of  Coude.     He  had  assembled  his  friends  and  de- 

*  Harleian  MSS.,  in  Buckley's  Hist.  Council  of  Trent.  Compare 
Surpi,  Pallavicino,  Strada,  De  Thou,  etc. 


THE    WII.ES    OF    THE    COURT.  '273 

maiuled  satijifiictiun  of  Guise  for  tlie  past  injuries  —  the 
imprisonment  and  the  sentence  of  death.  "  Let  it  all  pass," 
said  Coligiiy,  "  but  keep  clear  of  court  wiles."  Yet  what 
were  the  admiral's  feelings  when  he  stood  with  a  crowd  of 
dignitaries  and  looked  upon  a  great  farce?  Guise  and 
Conde  were  to  be  reconciled.  It  was  to  afford  a  grand 
scene  for  the  court.  After  the  pompous  formalities  the 
duke  said,  "Sir,  I  have  never  been  the  author,  instigator  or 
adviser  of  your  imprisonment." 

"  And,  sir,  I  hold  as  wicked  and  villainous  he  or  they  who 
have  been  the  authors,"  replied  the  prince,  "  And  I  too," 
rejoined  Guise,  "but  that  does  not  reflect  upon  me."  Their 
eyes  flashed  with  the  old  Are. 

"Let  the  princes  embrace  and  henceforth"  live  as  good 
cousins  ought  to  do,"  said  Navarre,  perceiving  the  hollow 
sham  and  fearing  a  quarrel  if  they  went  on  so  sharply  in 
their  apologies.  They  embraced,  and  the  shrewd  Catherine 
gave  a  feast  to  the  whole  gentry. 

And  now  Coligny  stood  quite  alone  in  honesty,  unselfish 
patriotism  and  Christian  principle.  Even  the  chancellor 
seemed  to  give  way  before  the  sweeping  power  of  the  new 
league.  Only  one  more  act  and  the  drama  would  be  com- 
j)lete ;  that  was  the  expulsion  of  the  Chatillons.  He  knew 
the  plot  was  carefully  laid.  He  knew  what  to  expect  from 
the  queen,  the  court  and  the  whole  Papal  forces  when  this 
jiart  of  the  scheme  was  revealed  to  him.  Perhaps  Cathe- 
rine gave  him  the  information.  He  saw  a  cooler  and  then 
a  more  contemptuous  treatment  of  the  Reformed  preachers 
at  the  palace.  They  were  now  studiously  slighted.  If  she 
sat  before  them  she  went  to  sleep;  the  courtiers  jested,  the 
little  king  played  with  his  dog.  The  hope  of  having  Beza 
as  court-preacher  and  fine  chapels  at  every  court-residence 
— at  St.  Germain,  at  !Meaux,  at  Blois  and  Fontainebleau — 
faded  away.     Antony  had  but  to  beckon,  the  whole  force 


274  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

of  the  Duke  of  Guise  would  come,  and  then  woe  to  the  man 
who  lingered  last  to  represent  Protestantism !  The  old 
work  of  removing  every  Bourbon,  every  Chatillon,  and  even 
the  Montmoreucies,  would  soon  begin.  AVhere  it  would  end 
let  St.  Bartholomew  tell.  Coligny  began  to  perceive  more 
of  Catherine's  double  dealing.  "I  cannot  spare  you,"  was 
the  voice  of  her  conduct  toward  him.  "  If  you  depart  the 
Guises  will  again  take  possession  of  everything."  She 
might  soon  address  him  as  "  my  friend,"  and  then  woe  to 
him. 

"  I  must  leave,"  we  hear  him  reply.  "  The  plot  is  laid. 
A  Spanish  ambassador  is  coming  to  make  this  demand  at 
the  peril  of  the  kingdom.  For  the  sake  of  saving  you  the 
trial  of  dismissing  me,  and  for  the  sake  of  my  country,  I 
will  retreat  for  a  season." 

Noble,  generous  Coligny !  Rather  than  insist  upon  his 
rights  at  the  risk  of  a  civil  war,  he  would  retire  from  a  high 
position  of  influence.  He  obtained  a  permission  to  visit 
his  estates.  As  the  last  of  his  long  train  of  baggage-mules 
was  leaving  one  of  the  palace  gates  the  first  one  of  the 
Spanish  legate's  train  entered  the  other.  The  Spaniai'd, 
according  to  the  programme,  well  understood,  soon  de- 
manded the  absolute  dismissal  of  the  Colignys.  Catherine 
replied,  "The  admiral  and  the  Seigneur  d'Andelot  are 
absent  on  their  private  afl'airs,  and  the  Cardinal  de  Chatillon 
has  retired  to  his  diocese,  in  obedience  to  my  express  desire 
that  bishops  as  well  as  governors,  in  these  unquiet  times, 
should  betake  themselves  to  their  charges."  The  legate 
was  angry,  but  the  Chatillons  were  safe. 

This  is  the  great  turning-point  in  the  history  of  France 
during  the  swordless  struggles  of  the  Reformation.  It  is 
marked  by  the  defection  of  Navarre  and  the  forced  retire- 
ment of  Admiral  Coligny  from  court.  Antony  forsook 
Protestantism;   Coligny  embraced  it  with  more  fervour; 


THE    WILES    OF    THE    COURT.  275 

they  parted  for  ever.  But  not  yet  did  the  admiral  give  up 
all  hope  of  seeing  Catherine  directed  in  a  policy  of  peace 
and  toleration.  Truly  had  Calvin  written :  "The  admiral 
is  the  only  nian  on  whose  fidelity  we  can  count." 

What  a  sight  for  the  Huguenots !  King  Antony  at  mass 
with  the  Lorraines ;  Coligny  in  his  castle  of  Chatillon, 
mourning  over  the  prospects  of  the  Reformed  Church,  and 
seeking  comfort  in  saying,  "  If  we  have  our  religion  left  us, 
what  more  do  we  want?"  If  frail  mortals  may  ever  in- 
dulge a  surprise  at  the  righteous  permissions  of  Jehovah, 
the  Protestants  might  well  be  amazed  at  the  sudden  turn 
of  affairs,  and  wonder  why  God  allowed  the  pillars  of  their 
hopes  to  be  removed. 

Another  sight  was  even  more  affecting.  The  tears  and 
prayers  of  Queen  Jeanne  touched  the  hearts  of  all  who  had 
any  respect  for  human  love  and  fidelity.  "She  excited 
pity  in  all  who  beheld  her,"  says  Beza,  "except  in  her 
husband,  so  besotted  was  he !"  During  fourteen  years  she 
had  given  him  her  affl'ction,  her  wealth,  her  wisdom  and 
all  the  character  imputed  to  him.  And  now  he  was  ready 
to  abandon  her  as  a  wretched  criminal.  In  his  rage  at  her 
firmness  of  faith  he  maltreated  her.  Catherine  sought  to 
repair  the  broken  ties  by  advising  her  to  fall  in  with  his 
humours  and  change  of  religion.  "  Madame,"  was  the 
reply,  "  rather  than  ever  go  to  mass,  if  I  had  my  kingdom 
and  my  son  in  my  hand,  I  would  cast  them  both  into  the 
depths  of  the  sea !"  * 

This  son  was  Henry,  afterward  the  Fourth  of  France. 
She  had  carefully  educated  him  under  a  Protestant  teacher 
to  whom  Calvin  gave  sage  advice  f  Of  him  she  had  in- 
dulged the  highest  hopes,  but  now  he  was  taken  from  her 
and  placed  under  a  Romish  tutor.     Losing  all  hope,  she  re- 

*  Bezii,  Ilistoire  de  I'Eglise.  f  Calvin  to  L:v  Gaucherie. 


276  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

solved  to  leave  Paris.*  At  her  departure  she  clasped  her 
son  in  her  arms,  bathed  him  with  her  tears  and  besought 
him  not  to  abandon  the  faith  in  which  he  had  been  edu- 
cated. 

She  gave  the  hand  to  her  heartless  husband,  and  again 
entreated  him  to  forsake  the  Guise  faction  and  return  to  his 
wife  and  her  kingdom.  It  was  a  brave  departure,  for  she 
knew  that  plots  had  been  laid  for  her  arrest,  and  Catherine 
had  defeated  them.  One  more  plot  was  laid  of  which  she 
was  ignorant ;  Conde  was  at  once  informed  of  it,  prf)bably 
by  Catherine.  The  first  night  her  large  train  rested  at 
Olivet.  Beza  came  with  letters  of  warning.  She  pushed 
forward  rapidly  and  reached  Venddme.  The  authorities 
of  the  town  were  about  to  arrest  her,  by  order  of  the  coun- 
cil of  which  her  husband  was  a  member !  Suddenly  four 
hundred  troopers  dashed  upon  the  place  and  began  the 
work  of  pillage.  She  forbade  any  one  to  oppose  them. 
They  seem  to  have  been  sent  by  her  brother-in-law,  the 
Prince  of  Conde,  not  only  for  her  safety,  but  to  make  re- 
prisals in  the  war  which  had  fiercely  begun. 

Once  more  in  her  little  realm,  Jeanne  D'Albret  took  up 
the  work  of  her  mother  Margaret,  opened  schools,  founded 
colleges  and  hospitals,  published  a  new  code  of  laws  and 
advanced  the  Reformation.  Soon  there  was  not  a  beggar 
in  Beam.  The  children  of  the  poor  were  educated  at  the 
public  expense.  Drunkenness,  usury  and  games  of  chance 
were  severely  repressed.  All  the  arts  flourished  with  the 
new  faith.  Churches  increased  ;  pastors  were  brought  from 
Geneva.  Even  to  this  day  the  people  utter  the  name  of 
"  the  good  queen "  with  affection  and  reverence.  A  Ro- 
manist chronicler  says :  "  She  was  the  wisest,  most  generous, 
most  learned  princess  of  her  time;  she  had  in  her  heart  the 

*  We  anticipate  tlic  events  of  the  next  chapter.  Tlie  first  civil  war 
had  now  begun,  and  Cunde  was  at  Orleans  with  an  army. 


Tin:  wii.es  or  the  court.  277 

source  of  every  virtue  and  of  every  good  quality."  It  is 
needless  to  quote  the  opinions  of  Protestants;  we  shall 
know  her  hand  wlien  we  see  it  again,  and  believe  that  "her 
whole  soul  belonged  to  manly  things,  her  powerful  spirit  to 
vast  affairs,  and  her  unconquerable  heart  to  great  adver- 
sities."* 

The  civil  wars  of  France  begin  to  open  before  us.  But 
they  were  preceded  by  various  tumults  like  those  of  St. 
Jacques  and  St,  ^ledard.  Out  of  more  than  a  dozen  mas- 
sacres of  that  time,  there  is  one  which  was  the  especial  har- 
binger of  woe.  It  has  been  called  the  spark  which  lighted 
the  fire  of  civil  war ;  the  first  of  the  series  of  atrocities 
which  culminated  in  the  black  day  of  St.  Bartholomew. 
To  understand  how  Conde  and  Guise  became  the  opposing 
chiefs  in  the  fierce  contest,  and  how  Coligny  and  the  Chris- 
tian Huguenots  were  drawn  into  it,  we  must  notice  the 
"  massacre  of  Vassy."t 

Among  the  villages  granted  to  the  house  of  Lorraine 
was  Vassy,  in  Champagne.  Its  three  or  four  thousand 
inhabitants,  paid  tribute  to  Mary  of  Scots,  and  the  mother 
of  the  Guises  dwelt  near  them,  at  Joiuville,  which  gave 
title  to  one  of  her  sons.  Many  of  the  people  of  this  old 
town  favoured  the  new  religion,  wanted  the  gospel,  and 
soon  after  the  colloquy  of  Poissy  a  minister  of  that  prov- 
ince was  appointed  to  visit  them,  and  "  organize  a  church 
according  to  the  word  of  God."  He  went,  but  some  of 
them  said,  "  It  is  not  a  good  time.  The  Duke  of  Guise 
and  his  brothers  are  now  at  Joiuville,  and  they  will  march 
down  upon  us." 

"  The  Lord  will  overshadow  with  his  hand  those  who 
hunger  for  his  word.     Let  us  try  first  to  meet  in  secret  and  - 

*  Freer,  Life  of  .Jeanne  d'Alhret ;  (\jI(iii1)i)iiii,  etc. 
t  Discours  entier  de  In  IVrsenition  en  la  ville  de  Va-^sy  (Mem.  de 
Cond6).—Dc  Thou,  Bcza,  etc. 
Vol.  I.— 2.1 


278  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

preach   Jesus   Christ,  as   your   neighbours   have   done   at 
Konay,"  (the  edict  of  July  was  still  in  force). 

In  the  house  of  a  tailor  there  gathered  about  twenty-five 
persons,  "  men  and  women,  faithful  and  pa])ists ;  they  sang, 
prayed  and  heard  the  sermon  ;  they  formed  a  church,  elect- 
ing four  elders  and  two  deacons.  They  parted  to  tell  the 
glad  tidings.  The  next  day  five  or  six  hundred  persons 
came ;  still  more  the  following  days,  until  they  resorted  to 
the  open  grounds  of  a  mansion.  They  were  led  into  "  the 
living  pastures."  While  the  minister  was  again  with  his 
charge  at  Troyes,  the  elders  fed  the  flock  by  "  reading 
printed  sermons  on  the  commandments."  Two  months 
passed.  The  people  of  the  neighbouring  villages  came, 
and  soon  there  were  nearly  one  thousand  members  of  the 
church  at  Vassy.  They  met  in  a  barn  on  the  commons, 
near  the  Roman  Catholic  church.  It  is  not  true  that  this 
was  a  "Calvinist  meeting-house"  close  by  the  church,." set 
there  probably  in  deliberate  insolence." 

Scarcely  had  the  minister  visited  again  this  quiet  people, 
when  the  Bishop  of  Chalons,  his  monk  and  a  train  of  armed 
attendants  came  into  town  on  a  December  day,  all  sent 
thither  by  the  mother  of  the  Guises.  She  had  already 
threatened  her  vassals  and  tenants  with  severe  penalties  if 
they  gave  ear  to  the  preachings.  The  bishop  seems  to  have 
been  an  ignorant,  but  not  a  violent  man.  He  sought  to 
bring  about  a  trial  of  preaching  abilities  between  the  monk 
and  the  minister,  but  forbade  the  people  to  hear  the  latter 
in  the  barn.  They  took  their  own  choice,  however,  and 
went,  sang  cheerfully,  listened  to  the  word  of  God  and 
bowed  their  heads  for  prayer.  At  that  moment  they  heard 
the  steps  of  the  bishop  and  his  party. 

"  I  am  the  Bishop  of  Chalons,"  said  he,  "  and  this  place 
belongs  to  my  diocese.  Let  the  people  come  and  hear 
me." 


THE    Wll.r-S    OF   THE    COURT.  279 

"  Will  you  preach?"  iiuiuired  the  miuLster.  "I  preach 
through  my  vicars,"  was  the  answer, 

"Did  the  apostles  have  vicsxrs?  Nay,  let  us  hear  you. 
But,  as  I  am  first  at  the  desk,  let  the  people  hear  me  first, 
and  if  you  find  any  error  in  my  doctrine  you  can  point  it 
out."     At  this  there  wa.<  a  noise  in  the  assembly. 

"  I  come  here  as  the  Bishop  of  Chalons,"  replied  the  dig- 
nitary; for  authority  and  not  argument  was  to  be  his 
reliance. 

"And  I  am  here  as  the  minister  of  Troyes.  There  none 
enter  to  disturb  us  in  our  prayers  or  sermons ;  why  are  we 
disturbed  here?  The  governor  of  Champagne  permits  us 
to  have  our  worship." 

"  You  are  not  a  minister.     Who  ordained  you  ?" 

"  I  received  my  office  from  ( Jod,  not  from  men.  Listen 
peaceably  to  the  Gospel,  or  leave  us  alone." 

The  bishop,  not  sustained  by  the  town  officers,  nor  by  his 
monk,  "  who  said  not  one  word,"  took  his  departure.  Some 
of  the  excited  people  shouted,  "Fox,  wolf!  send  him  to 
school!"  Others,  in  a  far  better  spirit,  lifted  their  hands 
to  heaven  and  rendered  praise  to  the  Lord.  They  then 
listened  to  the  sermon,  "  not  without  fruit."  Some  went 
peaceably  to  their  homes ;  others  dropped  in  to  hear  "  the 
monk,  much  esteemed  among  the  papists  as  a  champion  in 
theology." 

Thus  far,  no  violence,  no  deaths,  nothing  but  earnest  ser- 
m(ms,  warm  deliatcs  and  a  few  insults  on  both  sides.  The 
bishoi),  "  who  came  out  of  season,  went  away  without  suc- 
cess." He  reported  at  Joinville  that  he  had  been  abused, 
wrote  to  the  parliament  of  Paris,  but  gained  nothing,  for 
the  new  edict  of  January  was  now  in  force.  It  gave  the 
people  the  right  to  meet  outside  the  walls  and  in  old  barns 
and  houses.  The  faithful  sent  to  Geneva  for  a  pastor.  Ln 
due  time  Leonard  Morel  was  settled  over  them. 


280  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

Antoinette  de  Bourl)on,  mother  of  the  Guises,  grew  im- 
patient. She  was  delighted  when  her  son,  the  duke,  came 
with  his  wife  and  six  hundred  armed  men,  from  his  mission 
to  the  German  princes.  He  and  his  greater  brother  had 
been  sent,  after  the  colloquy  of  Poissy,  to  make  good  the  old 
alliances.  The  conference  was  held  at  Saverne.  They  half 
promised  to  root  out  "  the  Huguenot  heresy,"  and  then 
reform  the  French  Church  on  the  Lutheran  model,  adopt- 
ing the  Confession  of  Augsburg.  Brentz  heard  the  car- 
dinal preach  two  sermons  which  Luther  might  have  thought 
orthodox,  and  he  begged  that  the  persecutions  in  France 
might  cease.  "I  will  end  them,"  replied  the  cardinal;  add- 
ing very  solemnly,  "I  have  never  put  a  man  to  death  on 
account  of  his  religion."  The  Duke  of  Guise  backed  up 
the  assertion,  saying  also,  "  We  will  do  the  Reformed  no 
injury."  With  these  promises  fresh  in  their  minds  they 
had  reached  the  castle,  where  their  mother  would  test  their 
words.*  The  duke  found  letters  waiting  from  the  lieu- 
tenant-general, Navarre,  urging  him  to  hasten  to  Paris. 
Catherine  also  hinted  that  a  goodly  company  of  armed 
men  would  be  quite  acceptable.  The  clearing  out  of  all 
Protestants  from  the  court,  council  and  cabinet  had  been 
almost  effected.  "  You  can  take  Vassy  on  your  way,"  sug- 
gested the  mother  of  Guise.  "  Those  despisers  of  our  holy 
religion  have  grown  insolent.  They  call  us  hard  names" 
(probably  some  of  the  indiscreet  had  spoken  bitterly). 
"  You  are  too  patient  with  them.  Your  reputation  will 
suffer  by  your  lenience." 

Francis  of  Guise  was  not  so  cruel  nor  so  cowardly  as  to 

*  "If  those  furies  (the  Guises)  lately  made  any  dissembling  prom- 
ises at  Saverne,  the  atrocious  act  which  immediately  followed  has 
revealed  how  deceitful  all  their  flatteries  were ;  for  scarcely  had  they 
quitted  the  colloquy  when  they  hurried  to  the  perpetration  of  the  most 
barbarous  massacre." — Calvin  to  Sturm,  dcxxviii. 


THE    WILES    OF    THE    COURT.  281 

sweep  down  with  a  ii'i^imcnt  upon  the  Culvinists'  barn  ami 
shed  innocent  blood  without  a  show  of  provocation.  He 
wished,  pcrliaps,  to  suj)prc.ss  the  Iveresy  and  let  the  heretics 
live.  We  can  afibrd  to  be  so  generous  as  to  doubt  whether 
he  was  guilty  of  a  premeditated  design  to  massacre  a  de- 
fenceless peoj)lc.  The  result  was  bad  enough,  at  best,  and 
his  crime  had  no  good  apology  His  intention  ^vas,  if  De 
Thou  be  correct,  "  to  dissolve  these  conventicles  of  Protest- 
ants, rather  than  to  hurt  anybody."  On  the  first  day  of 
March,  15G2,  he  and  his  huge  retinue  came  near  to  Vassy. 
Hearing  a  bell  ringing  at  an  unusual  hour,  he  asked,  "What 
is  the  matter?     Why  that  clangour?" 

"  It  is  to  call  the  Huguenots  together  for  their  preach- 
ing," was  the  re|)ly  of  a  tavern-keeper.  "  March,  march 
on!"  said  the  duke  to  his  men.  "We  will  see  for  what 
they  assemble."  "  We'll  Huguenot  them,"  boasted  the 
lacqueys  who  attended  Guise,  and  who  were  intent  upon 
pillage. 

The  comi)any  entered  the  town.  At  the  market-place 
the  provost,  the  curate  and  the  prior  earnestly  besought  the 
duke  to  turn  off  from  the  direct  road  and  take  the  Protest- 
ant barn  on  his  way.  One  story  is,  that  he  and  his  guard 
stopped  at  a  hotel  to  dine  and  sent  a  band  of  men  to  visit 
the  Calvinist  mccting-housc ;  another  is  that  he  entered  the 
Roman  church  lor  mass,  his  usual  custom,  and  while  there 
he  was  annoyed  by  "  the  Protestant  congregation  roaring 
out  their  psalms.  The  duke  Avho,  for  the  time  had  no 
thought  of  using  violence,  sent  a  message  entreating  them 
to  be  silent  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour ;  mass  would  then  be 
over  and  they  could  sing  as  they  jileased."  *  This  is  very 
doubtful.  His  mind  was  hardly  upon  dinner  or  mass,  but 
upon  suppressing  the  worship  in  the  barn.  Nor  is  it  likely 
that  the  Protestants  yet  knew  that  he  was  in  the  town. 

*  Froiule;    La  Popelini^re,  D.-jniol. 

24  K 


282  ADMIRAL    rOLIGXV. 

Their  "louder  peals"  of  song  were  not  sent  up  to  heaven  to 
provoke  one  of  their  liege-lords  on  earth. 

In  some  way,  sent  or  unsent,  yet  scarcely  restrained,  a 
motley  troop  ran  on  before  him,  "  incensed  either  by  their 
hatred  or  by  their  greediness  for  boety,"  and  reache4  the 
barn.  Two  German  pages  shouted  out,  "  Dogs,  rebels !" 
Others  took  the  cry,  "Huguenots,  heretics,  rebels  again.st 
God  and  the  king !"  The  door  was  shut  against  them,  and 
a  more  frantic  howling  and  reviling  began.  The  siege 
must  now  be  undertaken. 

There  was  in  the  barn  and  al)out  it  a  vast  audience — 
some  report  tliree  thousand  persons ;  nine  hundred  of  them 
prepared  to  take  the  Lord's  supper.  The  pastor,  Leonard 
Morel,  was  engaged  in  public  prayer  for  a  poor  people  un- 
armed, unsuspicious  of  evil,  and  not  expecting  a  scene  of 
blood  and  death. 

"In  whom  do  you  believe?"  was  the  question  put  to  a 
poor  man  who  helped  to  guard  the  door.  "  I  believe  in 
Jesus  Christ,"  was  the  heroic  answer.  He  was  cut  down 
on  the  spot.  Two  others  fell  beside  him.  The  Protestants 
outside  began  to  look  about  for  means  of  self-defence,  seiz- 
ing what  came  nearest.  Then  the  door  was  pushed  back  ; 
not,  surely,  "  half  in  sport ;"  it  was  broken  open  ;  a  baud 
of  soldiers  "  rushed  in  by  main  strength  and  struck  with 
their  naked  swords  as  many  as  came  in  their  way,  few  of 
them  making  any  resistance."  Outside  retorts  were  made 
by  some  Protestants ;  blows  were  exchanged  and  missiles 
hurled  until  the  air  grew  thick  with  them. 

Meanwhile  the  Duke  of  Guise  came  near,  sword  in  hand. 
He  was  struck  in  the  face  with  a  random  stone.  Did  he 
then  give  the  order  to  fall  upon  the  Protestants  and  slay 
them  ?  Perhaps  not ;  it  was  unnecessary.  The  murderers 
were  already  at  their  work.  They  were  the  more  enraged 
at  seeing  their  chief  wounded.     They  dashed  at  once  upon 


TIIK    WILES    OF   TIIK    ("OUKT.  283 

the  whole  assembly,  cutting  down  uh^ii,  women  and  children, 
who  could  not  resist.  "A  mere  huddled  and  shrieking 
crowd  were  easy  victims."  Out  of  the  windows  over  the 
roof  they  sought  to  escape,  but  were  shot  down.  If  the 
duke  sought,  too  late,  to  restrain  his  men,  the  work  did  not 
cease  until  sixty  had  been  killed  and  two  hundred  wounded. 
"I  cannot  think,"  says  the  moderate  Lacratelle,  "that  the 
Ihike  of  Guise  wished  such  a  great  effusion  of  blood  ;  but 
he  evidently  sought  a  tumult.  He  who,  in  such  a  case, 
does  not  prevent  a  massacre  gives  proof  that  he  encourages 
violent  deeds." 

The  roar  of  the  tumult  was  heard  by  Anne,  the  wife  of 
Guise,  as  she  was  borne  on  in  advance  along  the  direct 
road.  "Suspecting  what  had  happened,"  says  De  Thou, 
"  and  being  of  a  meek  temper,  having  learned  from  her 
mother,  the  Duchess  of  Ferrara,  not  to  hate  the  Protest- 
ants, she  at  once  sent  a  messenger  to  the  duke,  beseeching 
him  to  spare  the  lives  of  so  many  wretched  people."  Hers 
seems  the  only  voice  that  pleaded  for  mercy  out  of  all  the 
princely  company. 

The  i)a.stor  had  preached  on  as  long  as  he  could.  When 
struck  with  a  musket  he  fell  on  his  knees  and  prayed  for 
himself,  his  friends  and  his  foes.  Throwing  oft'  his  cloak, 
he  hoped  to  escape  undetected.  He  was  at  length  brought, 
beaten  and  wounded,  to  Guise,  who  said,  "Ha!  are  you  the 
minister?  How  can  you  delude  these  people ?  You  have 
caused  the  death  of  these  victims." 

"  1  preach  the  gospel  of  the  Lord — " 

"  Does  the  gospel  preach  sedition  ?  You  shall  be  lianged 
at  once."  Morel  was  delivered  over  to  the  duke's  servants, 
but  of  all  those  cut-throats  not  one  was  willing  to  execute 
the  barbarous  order.  The  delay  saved  his  life.  Yet  he 
suffered  a  cruel  imprisonment,  when  starvation  almost 
brought  death. 


284  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

During  the  carnage,  it  is  said,  the  Bible  was  brought 
from  the  pulpit  to  the  duke.  He  took  it  to  his  brother,  the 
cardinal,  Louis  of  Guise,  and  said,  "  See  the  titles  of  these 
Huguenot  books."  Testaments  and  Psalms  were  also 
brought  and  burned. 

*'  There  is  not  much  harm  in  these,"  was  the  reply. 
"This  is  the  holy  Scriptures." 

"  How  !"  said  the  duke  with  an  angry  oath.  "  The  holy 
Scriptures!  It  is  fifteen  hundred  years  and  more  since  they 
were  made,  and  these  books  have  not  been  printed  a  year. 
The  book  is  good  for  nothing." 

"  My  brother  is  wrong,"  said  the  cardinal,  rebuking  either 
his  ignorance  or  his  fury,  or  both,  together  with  his  pro- 
fanity. The  duke  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  barn  floor, 
biting  his  beard,  as  he  did  when  in  a  rage.  He  summoned 
the  judge  of  the  district  and  upbraided  him  for  allowing 
such  meetings.  The  judge  pleaded  the  last  edict.  "The 
edict  of  January!"  Guise  exclaimed,  putting  his  hand  on 
his  sword  ;  "  this  steel  shall  speedily  cut  asunder  this  edict, 
however  tightly  bound."  *  We  remember  his  oath  about 
the  edict  of  July. 

The  next  day,  when  on  his  road  to  Paris,  he  was  told 
that  the  Huguenots  of  Vassy  had  sent  complaints  to  the 
king.  "  Let  them  go,"  said  he  with  scorn  ;  "they  will  find 
neither  their  admiral  nor  their  chancellor."  He  counted 
upon  the  removal  of  Coligny  as  a  great  victory.  Still,  he 
had  his  soberer  thoughts,  and  did  not  object  when  parlia- 
ment sent  to  Vassy  its  president,  Christopher  De  Thou 
(father  of  the  historian),  a  learned  and  just  man,  wealthy 
and  aristocratic,  and  said  to  have  been  the  first  citizen  of 
Paris,  not  of  the  nobility,  who  had  a  coach.  He  examined 
into  the  afiair,  and  certainly  did  not  exempt  Guise  from 
blame.  So  anxious  was  the  duke  to  save  his  character 
*  Davila. 


TUE    WILES    OF   THE    COURT.  285 

from  the  atrocious  cliarge  that  he  obtained  affidavits  from 
liis  own  party  to  show  that  the  Protestants  were  the  aggres- 
sors. In  his  dying  hour  he  dechvred  that  he  was  not  the 
author  of  the  massacre.  Had  he  not  also  denied  that  he 
secured  the  imprisonment  of  Cond6?  Even  if  not  the  de- 
viser of  a  plot,  he  had  a  large  share  in  the  guilt  of  bringing 
about  the  massacre,  which  was  "  the  signal  of  a  civil  war, 
the  most  bloody  of  any  in  the  memoi^  of  nations." 


CHAPTER    XI. 

Tn£  Zri'JtISIXG  OF  THE  HTJOVENOTS. 
(1362.) 

ANEW  period  opens — that  of  the  resistance.  It  begins 
in  a  chaos  of  bloodshed.  It  I'uns  into  the  civil  wars.  On 
the  part  of  the  Huguenots  it  is  marked  by  the  organization 
of  an  army  and  by  an  arrest  upon  the  advance  of  the 
Church.  The  sword  glitters ;  piety  declines.  "  Because 
iniquity  shall  abound,  the  love  of  many  shall  wax  cold." 

Catherine  was  at  jNIonceaux,  an  undefended  chateau  near 
Paris,  trying  to  save  herself  and  her  regal  son  from  the 
Triumvirate.  Conde  was  in  Paris,  with  his  eyes  opened  to 
the  fact  that  he  had  been  sadly  befooled  by  those  who 
wished  to  scatter  his  party  to  the  winds  and  ruin  all  his 
hopes.  The  scales  fell  when  Coligny  was  thrown  out  of  the 
councils  and  when  the  horrors  of  Vassy  caused  him  to 
sh  udder.  Other  massacres  were  fast  succeeding.  To  heaven 
rose  the  cry  that  God  would  send  a  deliverer  upon  earth. 
He  imagined  that  he  was  the  man.  Not  yet  would  he  and 
Coligny  act  together  under  one  policy.  The  one  was  qHite 
ready  to  draw  the  sword,  the  other  was  housed  at  Chatillon, 
waiting  for  the  mightier  Arm  to  be  made  bare. 

Theodore  Beza  led  a  commission  to  Monceaux,  appeared 
before  the  council  and  demanded  the  punishment  of  the 
murderers  at  Vassy.  If  the  Duke  of  Guise  and  his  follow- 
ers went  free,  then  law  was  at  an  end.  Edicts  were  but 
dust  in  the  eyes  of  the  people,  under  cover  of  which  the 
papists  might  fall  upon  every  Huguenot  barn,  or  temple,  or 

2S6 


THE    iriJISIXG    OF    THE    HUGUENOTS.  287 

house  througliout  the  land.  Beza  grew  eloquent  as  he  told 
how  liundreds  of  Protestants  were  perisliing,  "stubbed, 
stoned,  beheaded,  strangled,  burned,  starved  to  death, 
drowned  and  buried  alive."  The  council  was  silent  at 
the  dreadful  recital,  until  Antony  of  Navarre  attempted  a 
defence.  "They  threw  stones  at  my  brother  of  Guise. 
Princes  were  not  made  to  be  stoned.  .  .  .  Mark  me ! 
Whoso  shall  touch  but  the  end  of  his  finger  shall  touch 
my  whole  body."  Aside  he  muttered  that  Beza  ought  to 
be  hanged. 

"  Let  the  duke  point  out  tlie  authors  of  the  outrage,"  was 
the  reply.  "  It  is  in  truth,  Sire,  becoming  the  Church  of 
C4od  to  receive  blows — not  to  give  them.  Yet  remember 
that  it  is  an  anvil  which  has  worn  out  many  a  hammer."* 

Catherine  intervened.  She  ordered  Guise  to  appear  at 
court  without  an  armed  guard,  and  St.  Andre  to  retire  into 
the  Lyonnais  and  take  charge  of  his  government.  But 
her  will  was  nothing.  St.  Andre  and  Montmorency  rode 
away  to  meet  Guise  and  his  train,  as  if  to  give  welcome  to 
a  conqueror. 

And  Guise  was  coming.  The  tramp  of  his  six  hundred 
horsemen  was  almost  heard  at  the  gates.  JMight  he  not 
sweep  down  upon  the  Protestants,  who  were  still  holding 
vast  meetings  outside  the  walls?  They  had  their  "Jerusa- 
lem." The  marshal,  Francis  JNlontmorency,  advised  them 
to  adjourn  for  a  few  days,  lest  there  should  be  a  riot ;  but 
the  ministers  replied,  "  This  would  be  confessing  that  we 

*  Hist,  do  nCglise;  ^foiu.  del  Ciisteliiau.  "Our  brotlier  IJoza  is 
exercised  with  hard  trials.  By  the  treachery  of  Jiilian  [Beza's  name 
for  Antony],  he  narrowly  escaped,  a  short  time  ago,  from  being  drag- 
ged to  execution,  along  with  many  others ;  but  God  miraculously 
brought  to  naught  such  infamous  attempts." — Calvin  to  Pela-  Marlt/r, 
IGlh  March,  1562.  The  latter  died  at  Zurich  in  tiie  following  Sep- 
tember. 


288  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

are  in  the  wrong."  They  asked  for  a  royal  guard  to  pro- 
tect their  assemblies.  Beza  preached,  wearing  a  breastplate, 
while  Conde  and  about  four  hundred  armed  gentlemen 
formed  the  outer  circle  of  worshippers.  It  was  a  time  of 
peril.  The  wife  of  Montmorency  was  saying  to  the  proud 
old  baron,  "Defend  the  faith" — which  meant,  "Destroy  the 
Huguenots."  But  her  sou  was  marshal  of  Paris,  and  we 
always  find  him  a  moderate  man. 

On  the  afternoon  of  March  20th,  Conde  was  returning 
from  "Jerusalem,"  followed  by  an  immense  train  of  people, 
when  he  came  upon  the  Duke  of  Guise  and  his  brilliant 
retinue.*  A  clash  was  expected  ;  but  the  two  chiefs  coolly 
saluted  each  other  and  passed  on  their  way.  Guise  had 
entered  the  St.  Denis  gate — one  designed  for  kings — and  as 
he  rode  through  the  streets  he  was  hailed  by  the  people 
with  loud  shouts:  "Vive  le  Guise!  the  hero  of  Vassy,  the 
defender  of  the  faith,  the  Joshua  who  slays  the  Canaauites, 
the  Judas  Maccabeus  of  his  age !"  Montmorency  and 
St.  Andre  were  at  his  side,  a  sign  of  government  favour. 
The  citizens  crowded  about  his  horse;  they  kissed  his  robes; 
they  rushed  to  his  hotel ;  they  offered  him  large  sums  of 
money  for  "  the  wars  of  religion."  But  he  was  cool ;  and 
well  he  might  be,  for  he  was  master  of  the  situation.  He 
sent  his  compliments  to  Conde,  with  the  offer  of  his  ser- 
vices, whose  full  value  the  prince  was  at  no  loss  to  under- 
stand. It  was  a  strange  and  alarming  sight:  two  rival 
chiefs  in  one  city,  each  having  a  strong  force  about  him, 
his  hotel  in  a  state  of  defence,  and  resolved  not  to  yield  an 

*  "Now,  thougli  that  apostate  has  stimraoned  the  Guises  to  court 
[not  Paris],  in  order  to  introduce  extreme  measures,  yet  Beza  trusts 
tliat  the  Church  will  be  so  increased  that  they  will  not  dare  attempt 
anything  afterward.  The  first  collision  is  to  be  dreaded,  unless  God 
come  to  our  aid.  Serious  threats  and  terrors  everywhere  hang  over 
us." — Calvin  to  refer  Martyr,  lOth  March,  1562. 


THE    IPRISINC    OF    THE    IIUOUENOTS.  289 

inch,  nor  to  let  pass  any  insult.  Catherine  advised,  or 
commanded,  them  to  retire.  Guise  could  afford  to  do  it, 
for  he  held  the  very  souls  of  the  people :  from  that  day 
Paris  contijiued  to  be  a  Guiseau  city.  But  for  Conde  to 
forsake  capital  and  court  seemed  to  be  his  utter  ruin.  It 
was  his  own  brother  Antony  who  dislodged  him. 

The  prince  saw  no  hope,  no  help.  His  fortunes  were  at 
the  lowest  ebb.  He  might,  peril ap.s,  have  held  Paris  if  his 
friends  had  supported  him  in  season.  Beza  a&serts  that  the 
rich  members  of  the  Church  in  Paris  had  not  come  forward 
with  the  needed  funds ;  that  courier  on  courier  failed  to 
rouse  the  admiral  out  of  his  castle ;  and  that  the  Huguenot 
nobles  preferred  to  take  refuge  in  their  provincial  homes.* 
Yet  he  led  out  of  the  capital  nearly  one  thousand  followers, 
and  fixed  his  quarters  at  Meaux,  some  thirty  miles  eastward 
from  Paris.  Thence  he  wrote  to  Coligny:  "  Not  want  of 
courage,  but  want  of  support,  has  constrained  me  to  leave 
the  capital.  I  conjure  you  to  hasten  and  join  us  with  such 
troops  as  you  can  muster.  Casar  has  pa.s.sed  the  Rubicon, 
has  seized  Rome,  and  his  standards  are  already  waving  in 
the  field."  Guise  was  Csesar,  Vassy  the  Rubicon,  and  Conde 
was  the  wandering  Pompey. 

Why  did  not  Conde  dash  upon  Monceaux,  seize  Cath- 
erine and  the  king,  and  thus  wrest  the  government  from 
the  usurpers  and  have  it  all  upon  his  side?  He  did  not 
know  how  acceptable  that  would  be  to  the  queen-mother. 

*  La  None  justifies  the  prince  for  not  trying  to  hold  Paris,  because 
there  were  against  him  the  judges,  the  clergy,  the  parliament,  the  city 
authorities  and  the  populace.  Besides  his  three  or  four  hundred  gen- 
tlemen there  were  only  about  as  many  university  students,  and  still 
fewer  of  the  bourgeois.  "  Wliat  were  these  against  so  many  ?  A 
mouse  against  an  elephant!  They  lield  their  own,  however,  until  the 
lords  and  princes  (Guises)  forced  them  to  throw  up  the  game.  It  was 
doubtless  a  high  and  generous  design  to  endeavour  to  establish  the 
gospel  in  Paris,  but  with  such  a  poverty  of  means  it  was  impossible." 
Vol.  I.— 25 


290  ADMlliAL    COLIGNY. 

Besides,  he  had  no  plot  to  overturn  the  administration. 
"I  was  present,"  says  La  None,  who  had  dropped  his  books 
and  taken  arms,  "and  I  affirm  that  there  was  no  premed- 
itation. INIost  of  the  nobles  had  l)een  more  intent  upon  se- 
curing religious  liberty  than  upon  providing  for  the  defence 
of  their  religion.  Yet,  having  heard  of  the  massacre  of 
Vassy,  and  urged,  partly  by  good-will,  partly  by  fear,  they 
resolved  to  come  near  to  Paris,  imagining  that  their  pro- 
tectors might  have  need  of  them.  Thus  the  chief  of  them 
set  out  from  the  provinces,  some  with  twenty  or  thirty 
friends,  carrying  arms  concealed  and  lodging  in  the  hostels 
or  fields,  paying  their  way  until  they  joined  the  princii^al 
body.  Many  have  assured  me  that  these  motives  alone  put 
them  in  motion,  and  I  have  heard  the  prince  and  the  ad- 
miral confess  the  same."  Had  there  been  a  Renaudie 
among  them,  the  king  might  have  been  in  the  power  of  the 
Huguenots. 

AVhy  did  not  Catherine  throw  herself  and  children  into 
the  hands  of  Conde?  She  evidently  saw  her  mistake  in 
allowing  the  Triumvirs  to  seize  the  government  and  Guise 
to  hold  Paris.  But  Conde  would  be  declared  a  rebel,  and 
she  dared  not  risk  such  an  escape  from  the  Guisean  tyranny. 
On  the  side  of  the  oppressors  there  was  power,  and  if  she 
voluntarily  took  the  part  of  the  Huguenots,  Rome  and 
Spain  would  crush  them  all  together.  If  Conde  would  only 
take  her  and  the  king  by  surprise,  it  would  be  a  relief.  She 
took  secret  flight  to  Melun,  and  thence  sent  messages  to  the 
prince  in  such  terms  that  he  would  take  his  commission : 
"  You  will  take  care  to  preserve  the  mother,  the  children 
and  the  kingdom  for  him  whom  it  concerns.  .  .  .  You  will 
aid  me  in  preserving  the  royal  authority  of  my  son  from 
the  greatest  enemy  that  you  or  France  can  have."  *■    The 

*  "  What  a  fine  thing  to  be  a  Florentine !"  says  Laval,  referring  to 
the  ease  with  wliich  Catlierine  explained  away  these  letters  afterward. 


TiiK  T  rinsixc  OF  Tin-:  jitguenots.         291 

prince  made  good  use  of  the  letters  sent  him,  and  when  the 
Huguenot  nohles  reiid  them,  they  thought  they  were  not 
simply  defending  their  own  cause,  hut  the  very  crown. 
Beza  says,  "They  will  serve  as  a  testimony  to  posterity  that 
this  prince  undertook  the  war  for  the  defence  of  religion 
and  at  the  express  desire  of  the  said  lady."  This,  then, 
was  one  ohject  —  to  rescue  the  royal  family  from  the 
usurpers. 

But  he  must  have  an  army  to  hold  the  king  when  he 
should  posse-^s  him.  What  of  the  admiral?  For  a  month 
he  had  been  at  Chatillon,  plunged  in  the  deepest  grief,  and 
"avoiding  the  sight  of  every  human  being."  A  civil  war 
had  horrors  which  must,  if  possible,  be  averted.  Visitors 
came — his  two  brothers,  Briquemaut  and  some  of  the 
leading  Protestant  nobles.  They  pleaded  the  dishonour 
of  deserting  the  prince  and  of  allowing  the  massacres  to 
run  on  unchecked.  The  people  looked  to  him  for  their 
protection. 

"  But  where  are  your  means  of  war — your  arsenals,  your 
ammunition,  your  money?  Shall  we  not  rather  wait  in 
patience  for  better  times,  take  such  shelter  as  the  laws 
afford,  and  pray  God  to  avert  the  woes  which  threaten  us? 
Think  liow  rapidly  our  Ciuirch  has  grown  and  what  perse- 
cution it  has  endured.  The  blood  of  the  martyrs,  instead 
of  crying  aloud  for  vengeance,  has  been  the  seed  of  the 
Church,  growing  most  when  most  harrowed  and  ploughed 
by  our  foes."  Coligny  shook  the  minds  of  these  strong 
men,  and  quite  won  them  over  to  his  own  views  of  non- 
resistance. 

The  wife  of  the  admiral  heard  these  conversations.     She 

They  are  finuul  in  Mcin.  de  C'oiuk'.  In  tlic  Vic  de  Diiplessis  Moinny, 
written  by  his  wife,  she  tells  us  tiirit  her  fii-st  luisbaud  bore  some  of 
the  messages,  and  that  he  was  ordered  to  beg  Conde  to  "  be  the  pro- 
tector of  the  mother  and  the  child." 


292  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

knew  the  struggles*  in  his  soul,  and  almost  wished  herself 
a  Deborah  that  she  might  rouse  the  heroes  to  defend  the 
country  and  the  true  Church.  One  night,  two  hours  after 
he  had  fallen  asleep,  he  was  awakened  by  her  heavy  sighs, 
and  he  asked  the  cause.  "  It  is  with  great  regret,  sir,"  she 
replied,  "that  I  trouble  you  with  my  anxieties,  but,  seeing 
the  members  of  the  body  of  Christ  thus  cruelly  torn  in 
pieces,  shall  we,  who  are  of  his  body,  remain  insensible? 
You  do  feel  them,  I  know,  with  all  your  strength  to  conceal 
your  feelings ;  but  blame  not  your  faithful  wife  if  she  seem 
to  have  more  confidence  than  respect  and  pour  the  flood  of 
her  sorrows  into  your  bosom." 

The  admiral  was  reminded  that  while  he  was  resting 
amid  comforts,  some  of  his  Christian  brethren  were  lying  in 
dungeons,  some  in  the  bare  fields  with  the  storm  beating 
upon  them,  and  some  dying  under  the  most  cruel  tortures. 
He  urged  that  war  might  only  increase  the  number  of 
sufferers.  "  Your  argument  leaves  your  brothers  hopeless," 
she  said.  "It  does  not  show  a  strong  faith  in  God.  He 
has  given  you  the  genius  of  a  great  captain  ;  how  can  you 
refuse  to  employ  it  for  the  relief  of  his  children  ?  You 
have  confessed  the  justice  of  their  cause.  Sir,  my  heart 
bleeds  for  our  slaughtered  brethren.  Their  blood  cries  to 
Heaven,  and  Heaven  will  cry  against  you  if  any  jierish 
whom  you  might  have  saved.  You  have  told  me  that  your 
conscience  keeps  you  from  sleep.  It  is  God's  preacher. 
"What  account  will  you  render  in  doomsday  ?" 

Coligny  had  one  more  appeal.  "  Lay  your  hand  on  your 
heart,"  said  he,  "  and  tell  me — could  you  receive  the  news 
of  a  sad  defeat  without  a  murmur  against  God  or  a  reproach 
upon  your  husband  ?" 

*  "  I  do  not  estimate  the  external  struggles  in  which  he  (Coligny) 
was  engaged,  by  any  means,  so  highly  as  those  he  endured  within. 
The  former  were  the  lot  of  every  man  living." — Ranke. 


THE    UPRISJ.NC    OK    TIIK    II  ('(iUENOTS.  293 

"  I  could.  But  why  aij}'  I'eur  of  defeat?  You  have  often 
boasted  of  the  strength  of  the  Protestants."  No  man  knew 
that  strcngtli  butter  than  Coligijy. 

"  Are  you  prepared  to  endure  the  opprobrium  of  your 
enemies,  the  reproaches  of  your  friends,  the  treachery  of 
partisans,  the  curses  of  the  people — confiscation,  flight,  exile 
— the  insolence  of  the  English,  the  (piarrels  of  the  Germans 
• — shame,  poverty,  hunger  and,  what  is  more,  the  sufferings 
of  your  children  ?  Are  you  j)repared  to  see  your  husband 
branded  as  a  rebel  and  dragged  to  a  scaffold,  while  your 
children  are  disgraced  and  begging  their  bread  of  their 
enemies,  or  serving  them  as  scullions  and  slaves?  I  give 
you  eight  days  to  reflect  upon  it,  and  when  you  are  prepared 
for  such  reverses  then  I  will  march." 

"The  eight  days  are  already  expired,"  was  the  heroic 
answer.  "  Go,  sir,  where  duty  calls.  Do  not  put  hope  in 
your  enemy's  virtue ;  make  use  of  your  own.  Heaven  will 
give  you  victory."*  It  is  said  by  some  writers  that  Co- 
ligny  was  entreated  by  Catherine  to  haste  to  the  rescue, 
and  that  he  said,  "This  is  enough  to  shield  me  from  the 
charge  that  I  am  taking  up  arms  to  advance  religion  by 
war." 

The  next  morning  he  mounted  his  horse,  collected  his 
tenants,  mustered  what  troops  he  could,  took  the  road  to 
Meaux,  joined  the  prince  and,  with  no  little  emotion,  read 
the  words  on  his  banner :  "  It  is  sweet  to  brave  danger  for 
Christ  and  our  country." 

Nothing  but  a  great  cause  could  have  united  two  such 
men  as  Conde  and  Coligny.  They  had  differed  hitherto ; 
they  would  differ  to  the  last,  and  yet  heartily  support  each 
other.     Conde  was  nervous,  buoyant,  at  court  frivolous,  in 

*  "  1  ilo  not  give  tliis  as  a  fal»iiloiis  oniaiiu-iit,  l)iit  as  a  lact  tliat  I 
have  hecn  tolil  by  tlie  very  persons  coneerneil.'' — I>'Aul)iijne,  JltKt. 
Universelle.    There  is,  however,  some  doubt  ca.Ht  vipou  the  story. 
25  « 


294  ADMIRAL    C'OIJCXV. 

ciimp  as  ardent  for  combat  as  ever  he  had  been  for  pleasure. 
The  little  man,  who  ever  talked  and  ever  smiled,  whose 
humour  was  altogether  Frc^ich,  was  loved  by  his  soldiers. 
His  peculiar  liveliness  and  enthusiasm  -were  imparted  to 
the  whole  rank  and  file  under  his  command  ;  they  caught 
his  spirit;  their  force  was  doubled.  AVith  him,  impulse 
was  genius ;  the  impression  of  the  moment  was  his  best. 
Valorous  as  a  warrior,  he  still  lacked  the  moral  firmness 
essential  in  a  Christian.  He  fought  rather  from  hatred  of 
tyranny  than  love  for  the  Protestant  faith.  "  He  was," 
says  Brantome,  "  ambitious  rather  than  religious."  Easily 
provoked  into  a  war,  he  was  quite  as  readily  persuaded  into 
a  peace.  In  attempting  to  manage  a  royal  cabinet,  he 
taught  an  intriguing  court  how  to  manage  him. 

Coligny  was  almost  the  reverse — thoughtful,  cautious,  de- 
voted to  a  principle,  suspicious  of  an  impulse,  directed  by 
conscience  and  mindful  of  his  responsibility  to  his  king,  his 
country  and  his  God.  His  was  the  material  of  which  the 
serious  Huguenot,  Puritan  and  Covenanter  were  made. 
More  like  Cromwell  than  like  Conde,  he  would  have  been 
at  the  head  of  the  ai'my  what  Calvin  was  at  the  head  of  the 
lieformed  Church.  The  word  "  discipline"  thrice  given 
would  have  been  his  three  rules  of  warfare.  His  love  for 
it  left  no  space  for  ease  to  a  wild,  reckless,  unruly  soldier. 
Success  in  battle,  he  thought,  depended  as  much  on  obedi- 
ence as  upon  courage;  his  mode  was  not  to  raise  a  yell, 
make  a  rush  and  sweep  all  before  him  ;  the  living  hurricane 
should  move  according  to  laws.  Not  so  impulsive  as  Conde, 
he  had  a  persistence  not  found  in  the  Bourbons.  Although 
trained  under  his  raving,  swearing,  mass-lipping  old  uncle, 
he  went  calmly  to  his  work  and  coolly  finished  it.  A 
victory  did  not  exalt  him  more  than  a  defeat  cast  him  down. 
If  Conde  could  electrify  an  army  at  the  approach  of  a 
battle,  Coligny  was  the  man  to  fortify  it  at  the  moment  of 


THE    UPRISING    OF   THE    HfGUEXOTS.  *29.J 

a  rout.  Tlie;?e  were  great  qualities,  liut  lliaL  which  maile 
his  character  grand  in  that  age  was  his  profouii<l  faith,  his 
simple  love  of"  truth,  hi^^  high  morality,  his  devotedne.ss  to  the 
right,  his  hidden  life  with  God.  "  He  was,"  Castelnau  tells  us, 
"one  of  the  first  officers  of  the  crown,  and  worthy,  for  his  great 
abilities,  to  be  at  the  head  of  any  ])arty.  And,  as  he  was 
more  devoted  to  his  religion  than  other  peo])le,  he  acted 
the  censor  among  the  young  nobles  and  gentry,  curbing 
their  unruly  passions  by  a  certain  severity  which  was  natural 
and  becoming."  Of  all  the  Huguenot  chiefs  he  was  the 
lion-hearted,  and  neither  wife,  nor  comrade,  nor  king  could 
ever  charge  him  with  infidelity.* 

As  the  troops  increased  every  day,  Conde  thought  of 
dashing  upon  Paris  and  holding  it  for  the  king.  "  Nay," 
said  Coligny,  "that  city  is  so  devoted  to  Guise  just  now 
that  it  would  require  all  our  soldiers  to  keep  down  the  citi- 
zens. My  plan  is  to  form  a  line  of  defence  upon  the  Loire 
and  hold  all  Southern  France."  He  knew  that  the  great 
strength  of  Protestantism  lay  south  of  the  river.  This 
plan  was  adopted.f 

Orleans  was  chosen  as  the  central  })oint  and  the  chief 
rendezvous.  It  seems  that  Catherine  was  to  go  thither  and 
be  taken  in  that  city,  whose  coramumlant  was  "neither  Cath- 
olic nor  Huguenot,"  waiting  to  see  what  side  she  would 
choose.  She  was  now  on  the  way  at  Fontainebleau.  An- 
delot  was  sent  to  capture  it,  six  days  after  the  encampment 
at  Meaux.  Conde  and  Coligny  were  to  stay  the  advance 
of  the  enemy,  or  seize  the  king  if  he  were  still  delayed. 

It  was  too  late.  Tlie  Guises  had  taken  the  matter  in 
hand.  The  old  Montmorency  and  Navarre  had  frightened 
Catherine  by  coming  suddenly  to  Fontainebleau  with  a 
strong  force.  The  pope's  agent  had  moved  them.  "  I  came 
here"  (Paris),  wrote  St.  Croix,  "  to  urge  them  to  visit  her 
*  Puaux ;  Braiitome.  \  Lacratelle. 


296  ADMIRAL    COLKJNV. 

majesty  in  litiste,  and  hinder  the  Bishop  of  Valence,  who  is 
ever  at  her  ear,  from  persuading  her  to  take  some  extraor- 
dinary step.  They  hope  to  prevent  her  from  going  to 
Orleans."  Catherine  resisted,  saying,  "  Deserted  and  be- 
trayed as  I  am,  I  shall  defend  my  son,  your  king." 

Guise  drew  Antony  aside  and  said,  laughingly,  "She 
resist!  "Wliat  do  we  care  for  her?  She  can  stay  or  quit 
the  country,  just  as  she  likes  ;  it  is  nothing  to  us."  Antony 
returned  and  told  her  that  she  could  do  as  she  pleased,  but 
that  he  was  the  projjer  guardian  of  the  king,  and  he  should 
conduct  Charles  to  a  place  of  safety.  He  ordered  the  royal 
apartments  to  be  dismantled  and  the  furniture  removed,  for 
in  those  days  the  carpets  and  tapestry  were  carried  about 
with  the  court.  Old  Montmorency  was  swearing  and  beat- 
ing the  servants  ;  Catherine  was  smothering  her  grief,  hold- 
ing the  weeping  Charles  by  the  hand,  and  completely  a 
prisoner.  Some  confidential  attendant  slid  into  her  room 
and  she  whispered,  "  Ride  post  haste  and  tell  Conde  to 
rescue  us  on  the  road."  It  was  a  sad  journey  to  Melun,  to 
the  castle  of  Vincennes  and  to  Paris,  into  which  Guise  led 
the  royal  family  only  eight  days  after  his  triumphal  entry 
from  Vassy.  Charles  was  in  tears  half  the  time ;  his 
mother  said  not  a  word.  She  had  still  clearer  light  upon 
the  designs  of  the  Triumvirs,  if  we  may  credit  the  story 
that  she  overheard  St.  Andre  advise  his  colleagues  to  tie 
her  in  a  sack  and  throw  her  into  the  river.  This  decided 
her  speedy  conversion  to  their  policy.  It  is  more  probable 
that  she  saw  on  which  side  the  greater  power  lay,  and  self- 
interest  is  always  sufficient  to  account  for  her  conduct. 
What  is  certain  is,  that  she  was  no  longer  a  friend  to  the 
Huguenots. 

The  prince  and  Coligny  struck  across  to  St.  Cloud,  but 
there  learned  that  Catherine  and  her  son  were  just  beyond 
their  grasp.      On  hearing  the   news,  Conde  checked   hia 


THE   UPRISING    OF   THE    IIUGUEXOTS.  297 

liurse,  sat  for  some  moments  in  deep  thought  and  said,  aa 
the  admiral  rode  up,  "We  have  jilungcd  in  so  deep  that  we 
must  drink  or  drown."  They  drew  the  rein  and  took  the 
road  to  Orleans.  At  Angeville  the  prince  had  a  fresh 
letter  from  Catherine,  and  he  lingered  there  for  several 
hours.  A  messenger  came  saying,  "  Hasten  !  Tiie  troops 
of  Guise  are  getting  ahead  of  you."  The  cavaliers  sprang 
into  their  saddles,  and  two  thousand  men  went  galloping  to 
the  gates  of  the  town,  the  best  mounted  running  over  the 
rest.  The  peasants  laughed  at  the  sight.  They  saw  the 
road  covered  with  hats,  cloaks,  portmanteaus,  crippled  ser- 
vants, lamed  horses,  and  all  that  might  be  flung  away  in 
the  race ;  "  and  they  imagined,"  says  La  None,  "  that  all 
the  madmen  of  France  were  sweeping  over. the  earth  like 
the  winds  of  Languedoc."  It  was  well,  for  "by  these  new 
forces  the  town,  which  was  of  the  utmost  consequence,  fell 
into  their  hands."  As  the  prince  rode  through  the  streets 
they  were  lined  with  expectant  Huguenots,  singing  psalms 
of  joy  and  welcome.     Vive  V Evungile  !  was  the  shout. 

"And  what  of  us?"  asked  the  Roman  ("atholics,  who 
suspected  a  sacking  and  a  butchery.  "  You  shall  be  safe," 
replied  the  prince;  "your  governor  shall  still  retain  his 
command."  But  this  officer  declined,  saying,  "AVhere 
there  is  a  prince  of  the  blood,  it  is  not  reasonable  that  a 
simple  gentleman  should  command  the  city."  The  j)la('e 
was  well  chosen.  A  rich  country  lay  around  it,  and  it  was 
a  central  refuge  for  tlie  Huguenots. 

The  Prince  of  Conde  was  elected  general-in-cliicl",  but 
all  minds  were  turned  upon  Adniii-al  Coligny  as  the  man 
of  more  ^si)iritual  strength.  His  first  care  was  to  secure  a 
powerful  union  for  the  defence  of  religion.  A  jiaper  was 
drawn — a  sort  of  Solemn  League  and  Covenant.  It  was  to 
be  adopted  with  religious  services.  A  sermon  was  preached. 
The  Lord's  supper  was  administered  and  the  presence  of 


298  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

the  Captain  of  their  salvation  invoked.  Then  the  Calvinist 
chiefs  took  a  solemn  oath  to  maintain  the  alliance,  and 
gravely  signed  the  document,  the  name  of  the  prince  being 
first  subscribed.  These  nobles  were  among  the  noblest  in 
France.  Among  them  were  many  relatives  of  Conde ;  the 
three  Chatillons  were  uncles  of  his  wife;  Antony  Croye, 
Prince  of  Porcien,  the  husband  of  his  niece;  La  Rochefou- 
cauld, the  greatest  baron  of  Poitou,  was  his  brother-in-law, 
and  the  Rohans  were  his  cousins.  Count  de  Gramraont 
had  led  up  six  thousand  Gascons ;  Montgomery,  whose 
lance  struck  Henry  11.,  came  with  the  Normans ;  Rohan 
led  the  Dauphinese ;  Genlis  the  Picards.  Andelot  brought 
five  hundred  Bretons,  and  Soubise  an  array  from  the  ocean 
shores.  Perhaps  more  than  one  of  these  chieftains  had 
heard  the  call  from  a  high  quarter.  Count  la  Rochefou- 
cauld had  received  a  letter  from  Catherine.  "  It  came 
when  he  was  walking  in  his  great  hall  at  Verteul,"  says  his 
secretary,  De  INIergey.  "  He  read  it,  leaned  for  some  time 
at  his  window,  and  then  asked  me  what  he  should  do. 
Being  pressed  for  an  answer,  I  said,  '  Do  as  your  queen  and 
king  command  you.'  He  smiled,  saying, 'Such  is  my  de- 
termination.' He  summoned  his  friends,  and  in  fifteen  days 
took  the  field  with  nearly  three  hundred  gentlemen  and 
their  trains,  and  with  this  fine  troop  he  found  the  prince  at 
Orleans." 

What  was  there  requiring  their  solemn  oath  ?  To  what 
did  they  swear?  That  they  had  only  the  honour  of  God 
before  their  eyes,  that  they  sought  to  liberate  the  king  and 
queen  from  the  Triumvirate,  that  they  would  maintain  the 
edict  of  January,  that  they  wished  to  punish  only  those 
who  had  wantonly  violated  it,  that  they  would  endeavour 
to  prevent  all  blasphemy,  violence,  pillage,  and  all  acts  for- 
bidden by  the  law  of  God,  that  they  would  support  among 
them  good  and  faithful  ministers,  who  should  teach  them 


Tin;  I  ruisiN(;  of  tiii:  Jir(;r knots.  299 

God's  will,  and  that,  fur  these  ol)jcct.s,  they  would  employ 
their  bodies,  their  properties  and  their  very  last  drop  of 
blood.  Their  league  should  continue  only  until  the  young 
king  attained  his  majority.  So  soon  as  he  was  of  age  they 
would  submit  to  him  in  all  obedience.  They  appointed 
Conde,  being  a  prince  of  the  blood,  the  protector  and  de- 
fender of  the  Protestant  religion,  and  swore  to  obey  him 
so  long  as  he  should  follow  the  advice  of  his  three  councils. 
Among  the  chief  of  tlie  first  council  were  the  admiral  and  his 
two  brothers,  for  Cardinal  Odet  was  now  a  firm  Protestant. 

"  Maintain  the  January  edict  and  stop  these  terrible 
massacres,"  was  the  real  point  of  the  demand.  It  was  still 
a  law,  but  rudely  violated  even  by  Montmorency,  the  man 
who  pretended  to  revere  law.  It  was  this  widespread  out- 
rage upon  those  for  whom  the  edict  was  framed  that  caused 
the  uprising  of  the  Protestants.  It  was  not  that  they  sought 
to  put  down  Romanism  ;  not  to  propagate  their  own  faith 
by  the  sword  ;  not  to  promote  intolerance.  It  was  in  self- 
defence.  It  was  for  the  law,  and,  as  they  claimed,  for  the 
king.  "  Liberty  of  worship  was  the  sole  object  they  sought," 
says  Lacratelle.  "  If  that  had  been  granted,  they  would 
not  have  risen.  Francis  of  Guise  made  all  the  trouble,  by 
swearing  to  cut  that  edict  in  pieces,  and  by  violently  seizing 
upon  the  king  and  queen.  This  l)rought  up  Cond6  and 
Coligny  as  the  avengers  of  an  infant  king.  This  caused 
the  first  war  of  religion.  Catherine  de  Medici,  by  her  per- 
fidy, furnished  the  pretext  for  the  second  and  third.  This 
edict  of  January  appeal's  often  ;  it  is  the  eternal  pivot  on 
which  turns  every  sincere  plan  of  peace."* 

Coligny    revived    his   rules   of   military   discipline.     So 

strictly  were  the  plundering  of  houses  and  the  pillage  of 

churches  forbidden  that  his  own  eyes  were  often  upon  the 

watch.     One  night  the  great  church  at  Orleans  was  entered 

*  Lacrattllo,  Ilistoiio  cU-  France,  xviii.  Sioclc;  Resume. 


300  ADMIllAL   COLIGNY. 

and  the  work  of"  destruction  began.  Coligny  and  Cond6 
hastened  to  the  spot  in  order  to  quell  the  disorders.  The 
prince  saw  a  Huguenot  standing  on  a  ladder  ready  to  break 
an  image,  and  pointed  an  arquebuse  at  him.  "My  lord," 
.said  the  soldier,  "  have  patience  till  I  break  this  idol  and 
then  let  me  die,  if  you  will."  Such  coolness  proved  that 
the  man  went  at  his  image-breaking  with  a  good  conscience. 

Coligny  suggested  the  plan  of  attaching  to  each  regiment 
a  chaplain,  who  should  recite  prayers  aloud  every  morning 
and  evening  preach  the  word  of  God  and  exhort  both  chiefs 
and  soldiers  to  observe  good  morals  and  Christian  principles. 
Cromwell  was  not  the  first  military  chieftain  who  cultivated 
a  religious  enthusiasm  in  his  army.  Never  was  there  a 
braver  body  of  men  than  "  the  white  coats"  of  the  admiral, 
and,  so  long  as  they  were  under  him,  there  was  never  a 
better-conducted  band.  We  are  told  that  his  manner  was 
imposing,  his  gravity  checked  officers  from  immorality  and 
his  severity  was  a  restraint  upon  the  soldiers. 

"  Their  modest  behaviour  was  beyond  example,"  is  the 
testimony  of  the  Romanist  Varillas.  "  Each  company  in 
this  army  had  its  minister,  and  daily  prayer  was  said 
throughout  the  camp.  Their  songs  were  psalms.  When 
they  played  they  played  for  sport,  and  blasphemy  was  never 
heard  among  them,  l^ofilles  clejoie,  as  among  the  Catho- 
lics, loitered  in  their  tents."  It  reminds  us  of  the  army  of 
King  David  in  contrast  with  that  of  Absalom.  Lacratelle 
also  speaks  of  "  the  touching  character  of  the  ordinary 
prayers*  used  by  the  soldiers  in  the  army  of  Conde.  No 
doubt  Theodore  Beza  composed  them,  and  they  do  more 
credit  to  his  talent  and  his  heart  than  all  his  controversial 
writings."  This  author  quotes  the  prayer  to  be  used  by  a 
soldier  on  guard,  a  part  of  which  is :  "  We  pray  thee  for 
all  our  court,  for  our  young  king  and  sovereign  prince. 
*  M^ra.  de  Cond^. 


THE    UrillSING    OF    TIIK    HUGUENOTS.  oOl 

May  it  please  thee  to  bless  his  youth  and  preserve  him 
amid  the  perils  that  now  surround  him  through  the  evil 
schemes  of  the  enemies  of  the  crown  and  the  peace  of  this 
kingdom.  Do  thou  give  him  grace  to  favour  his  true  and 
loyal  subjects  and  servants,  and  to  seek  thy  glory  in  all 
things.  Be  merciful  to  his  brothers,  his  mother  the  queen, 
the  princes  of  the  blood,  and  to  all  the  true  lords  of  the 
council."  And  yet  these  were  the  men  so  often  branded  as 
"  rebels  and  infidels,  worse  than  Turks." 

By  Coligny's  rules  there  was  a  terrible  penalty  upon  the 
soldiers  who  "  oppressed  the  poor  commons."  La  None 
attirms  that  on  their  marches  these  Huguenots  "  neither 
despoiled  nor  misused  their  hosts,  but  paid  honestly  for  all 
they  took,  ...  Of  the  Catholics  I  will  say  that,  at  the  be- 
ginning, they  were  likewise  well  ordered,  and  did  not  much 
annoy  the  commons." 

The  call  had  gone  secretly  forth  through  the  land  for  all 
the  Huguenots  to  furnish  men  and  money.  The  responses 
from  the  two  thousand  churches  were  cheering.  Old  sol- 
diers of  St.  Quentin  and  Calais  marched  to  Orleans.  Cas- 
tles, towns,  cities  and  districts  declared  for  the  prince,  and 
that  almost  on  the  same  day.  One  may  take  the  map,  and 
with  Orleans  in  the  centre  of  France,  and  with  the  Loire 
as  the  great  line  of  defence,  glance  al  the  strongholds.  On 
the  river  were  Orleans,  Blois,  Tours,  Angers  and  Nantes ; 
then  southward  were  Poitiers,  La  Rochelle,  Montauban, 
and  indeed  those  wide  regions  of  Gascony  and  Navarre, 
and  the  old  Albigensian  districts  stretching  from  Toulouse 
to  Nismes,  up  to  Lyons  and  over  into  Dauphiny.  Then  on 
the  north  were  Havre,  Caen,  Dieppe,  Rouen,  Troyes  and 
C'halons  ;  and  eastward  were  open  roads  for  bringing  troops 
from  the  lands  beyond  the  Rhine.  What  an  army  might 
those  Huguenots  put  into  the  field  ! 

But  the  enemy  was  striking  everywhere.  "  The  blood- 
VoL.  I.— 26 


302  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

bath  of  Vassy"*  was  repeated,  and  most  of  the  Protestants 
had  enough  to  do  to  defend  their  own  homes.  Some  have 
thought  that  the  massacres  of  1562  were  as  bloodv  as  those 
of  the  St.  Bartholomew,  ten  years  hiter.  They  made  the 
Iluguonot  uprising  ahnost  purely  defensive.  At  any  hour 
the  Bible-reader  might  have  his  doors  broken  down,  his 
house  robbed,  his  family  butchered,  his  dwelling  burned ; 
or  the  temple  where  he  sang  his  psalms  might  be  assaulted, 
and  he  might  be  slaughtered  along  with  his  pastor  and  his 
brethren.  There  was  no  protection  in  the  laAV,  in  the  edicts, 
in  the  governirient,  nor  in  the  word  of  a  king.  Even  flight 
to  other  lands  was  an  exposure  to  thieves  and  murderers. 
What  could  he  do?  Lie  resistless?  Human  convictions 
arid  ethics,  if  not  the  gospel",  forbade  it,  when  death  was  the 
almost  inevitable  result.  Recant,  apostatize  and  go  to  mass? 
His  conscience  forbade  it;  he  abhorred  the  hypocrisy.  Take 
up  arms,  not  on  a  private  account,  but  for  the  public  good  ? 
That  seemed  to  be  the  only  remedy ;  a  war  in  the  name  of 
God  and  for  the  highest  of  all  human  rights. 

Not  that  every  Huguenot  lifted  his  banner  in  God's 
name,  for  political  motives  controlled  too  many.  INIulti- 
tudes  sprang  to  arms  under  excitement.  In  some  instances 
they  went  beyond  the  peaceable  capture  of  their  own  towns, 
but  rarely,  if  ever,  without  provocation ;  and  we  should 
remember  that  in  every  Huguenot  congregation  there  were 
many  who  were  not  professors  of  religion.  The  town  of 
Valence,  below  ^lontauban,  on  the  Garonne,  was  already 
in  the  hands  of  the  Protestants.  Guise  ordered  La  Mothe- 
Gondrin,  who  was  governor  of  Dauphiny,  to  seize  it.  But 
his  force  was  not  strong  enough  to  hold  it,  so  that  the  next 
day  the  Huguenots  of  the  district  fell  upon  the  town,  set 
fire  to  the  house  of  the  Papal  captor,  drove  him  out,  slew 
him  and  several  of  his  party.     Among  the  slain  was  a  pro- 

*  iSoldiin,  Uobcliichtc  de.s  Prot.  in  Fruiikreich :  Leijizig,  1855. 


THI-:    UPRISING    or    TllK    11  UCl' KNOTS.  303 

vost,  Oil  wlioni  was  i'uiiud  a  letter  i'roiu  Gui.se  ordering  liim 
"  to  massacre  all  the  gospellers,  old  and  young." 

In  Lyons  the  two  parties  had  long  been  struggling  for 
tlie  mastery.  Tlie  Protestants  were  strong.  One  day  in 
June,  15G1,  a  Huguenot  had  his  hatred  against  idolatry 
aroused  by  seeing  a  priest  carrying  "  the  host,"  and  he  tried 
to  snatch  it  away.  There  was  a  riot  at  once.  The  cry  arose, 
"  Down  with  tlie  heretics !  Throw  them  into  the  Rhone !" 
and  the  lihone  was  soon  bearing  many  of  them  to  the  sea. 
This  was  the  prelude.  The  horrors  of  Vassy  were  enough 
to  rouse  the  spirits  of  those  who  still  remained.  But  the 
Romanists  took  that  massacre  as.  their  signal,  and  on  the 
night  of  April  12,  15G2,  they  rose  and  murdered,  in 
cold  blood,  about  a  dozen  people — a  son  taking  the  life 
of  his  own  mother.  The  governor  brought  more  soldiers 
into  the  city.  Suspicious  of  evil,  the  Huguenots  were  re- 
solved not  to  be  defenceless,  and  they  called  in  two  hundred 
men  from  the  neighbouring  towns.  Some  of  Conde's  sol- 
diers came.  The  minister,  Jacques  Rufi,  acted  as  a  captain. 
At  the  end  of  the  month,  when  all  was  ready,  twelve  hun- 
dred Protestants  met  by  night  in  their  temple,  invoked  the 
blessing  of  the  Highest,  then  marched  Ibrth,  made  short 
work,  and  in  an  almost  bloodless  way  got  the  complete  mas- 
tery of  the  city.  Only  three  persons  were  slain  and  three 
wounded.  But  they  followed  this  uj)  with  the  sack  of  con- 
vents and  churches  and  the  expulsion  of  all  friars  and  nuns. 
The  mass  was  al)olishcd,  liberty  of  conscience  proclaimed 
and  a  treaty  made,  by  whicli  the  senate  was  to  be  com})osed 
of  twelve  Huguenot  and  twelve  Catholic  membei's.  Still 
the  excesses  did  not  cease.  And  here  we  may  listen  to 
Calvin,  who  wrote  to  "  The  Church  at  Lyons."  He  says : 
"  We  have  news  that  causes  us  great  distress.  We  know 
that  in  such  disturbances  it  is  difficult  to  hold  the  bridle  so 
tight  as  is  desirable.     But  there  are  things  insupportable, 


304  ADMIRAL    C'OLIGNY. 

Avliic'li  we  must  rebuke,  or  be  traitors  to  God,  to  you  and  to 
Christianity  itself.  It  is  unbecoming  for  a  minister  to  play 
the  trooper  or  captain,  but  it  is  even  worse  when  one  quits 
the  pulpit  to  carry  ai'ms.  Worst  of  all  is  it  to  go  to  the 
governor  of  a  town,  pistol  in  hand,  glorying  in  force,  and 
threaten  him,  saying,  'Sir,  you  must  yield;  we  have  the 
power  in  our  hands  to  compel  you.'  We  tell  you  frankly 
that  this  is  as  disgusting  to  us  as  the  sight  of  a  monster. 
It  grieves  all  who  have  any  piety.  Nor  was  this  enough 
for  them  ;  they  must  scour  the  country,  carrying  off  booty 
and  pillaging  the  cattle,  even  after  the  Baron  des  Adrets 
arrived  as  governor.  .  .  .  We  have  been  told  that  the 
plunder  from  St.  John's  church  was  put  up  at  auction. 
True,  M.  Rufi  had  charge  of  these  affairs,  but  you  should 
have  checked  him.  If  he  does  not  submit,  let  him  go  where 
he  can  erect  a  church  apart.  .  .  .  Put  an  end  to  all  these 
acts  of  robbery."*  So  much  for  the  great  case  so  often 
held  up  against  the  Protestants.  We  shall  not  now  offset 
it  by  a  score  of  public  outrages  committed  by  the  papists. 

From  the  court  side  we  have  a  picture,  quite  recently 
brought  to  light  and  drawn  by  the  confidential  secretary  of 
Catherine  for  the  eyes  of  the  Fi-ench  ambassador  in  Spain. 
The  "exchanger"  is  the  King  of  Xavarre,  who  has  turned 
his  coat  and  is  held  as  the  contemjDtible  tool  of  those  who 
have  deluded  him. 

"An  infinite  number  of  places  have  deserted  our  cause, 

*  Calvin's  Letters,  dcxxix.  "As  lo  this  destruction  of  images,  I 
can  only  repeat  what  I  have  always  preached,  that  such  proceedings 
do  not  at  all  please  me." — Bern.  Of  these  acts  of  violence  Castelnan 
testifies :  "  The  Prince  of  Cond^  was  very  angry  at  them,  because  they 
were  directly  against  the  declaration  which  his  party  had  issued,  and 
they  might  provoke  the  Catholics  to  rise  with  greater  fury.  He  sent 
orders  to  ail  the  cities  that  the  January  edict  should  be  strictly 
observe. I." 


THK    LPitlSlNCJ    or    Till::    HUGUENOTS.  305 

80  that  the  king  is  no  longer  obeyed  ;  at  least  the  prince 
(Concl(J)  does  not  regard  what  is  written  from  hence,  and 
he  saya  that  he  does  everything  for  the  king's  service,  and 
that  those  around  his  majesty  and  the  queen-mother  detain 
them  as  prisoners.  In  every  town  the  greatest  license  pre- 
vails. All  the  churches  are  ruined  and  the  churchmen 
driven  away.  Amidst  this  desolation,  I  leave  you  to  im- 
agine the  murders,  pillage  and  violence  committed.  They 
(the  Huguenots)  hold  the  banks  of  the  river  (Loire)  from 
Kevers  to  Nantes,  so  that  not  a  soul  do  they  suffer  to  pass 
without  .searching  him,  seizing  his  letters  and  detaining  the 
king's  moneys.  .  .  .  The  queen-mother  does  all  in  her 
power  to  settle  affairs,  but  I  know  that  it  must  be  all  in 
vain.  One  faction  insists  on  establishing  a  new  religion  ; 
the  other  defends  the  old  by  fire  and  sword,  at  the  expense 
of  the  king's  poor  subjects  and  the  ruin  of  the  kingdom  ; 
and  all  through  the  counsels  of  that  fine  league.*  .  .  .  The 
exchanger  says  that  his  Catholic  majesty  (Philip)  must 
send  ten  thousand  infantry  and  three  thousand  cavalry  to 
our  aid.  .  .  .  The  queen-mother  is  made  mad  with  rage, 
perceiving  that  the  kingdom  is  partly  lost.  She  knows  not 
what  security  she  can  take  for  herself  and  her  children  ; 
for  she  can  expect  nothing  from  the  party  now  in  the 
ascendant,  except  their  dominion  over  her.  The  exchanger 
understands  nothing,  perceives  nothing;  it  is  not  possible 
for  any  man  to  act  worse  than  he  does.  He  knows  not  to 
what  saint  to  vow  himself,  and  in  these  negotiations  he  is 
turned  by  every  wind.  The  Prince  of  Cond^  is  at  the  head 
of  from  .seven  thousand  to  eight  thousand  horse ;  and  such 
is  the  disposition  here  that,  without  the  great  favour  of 

*  Between  Pliilip  of  Spain  and  the  French  government  at  Peronne, 
or  the  league  foriiiod  at  Trent  bv  certain  members  of  that  Himous 
oonncil. 

26  « 


306  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY, 

God,  it  will  not  be  long  before  we  come  to  a  hard  en- 
counter." * 

Every  courier  brought  woeful  tidings  to  Cond6 ;  every 
refugee  told  of  Huguenots  beaten,  driven  from  their  homes 
or  murdered  in  the  streets;  every  fresh  band  of  troopers 
reported  the  strategy  by  which  they  evaded  the  soldiers 
sent  out  to  waylay  them,  and  many  a  nobleman  told  how 
he  had  broken  down  his  three  or  four  horses  on  his  ride  to 
Orleans.  The  city  of  fifty  thousand  inhabitants  became  a 
refuge  for  women  and  children  escaping  from  violence  and 
following  husbands  and  fathers  who  had  taken  the  field. 
The  Princess  Eleanor,  braving  perils  and  sickness,  brought 
her  eldest  son  to  join  the  heroic  Conde.  Ministers  enough 
came  from  desolated  parishes  and  from  Geneva  to  fill  up 
Coligny's  list  of  chaplains,  and  among  them  Theodore 
Beza.  The  third  national  synod  was  held  on  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  April.  The  members  of  it  did  not  smother  their 
patriotism  while  renewing  their  adoption  of  the  confession 
of  faith.  They  prayed  that  God  would  keep  his  people 
from  taking  revenge  upon  their  persecutors  and  teach  them 
to  love  their  enemies.  But  they  could  not  rebuke  the  spirit 
of  self-defence  which  had  turned  many  of  their  churches 
into  barracks  or  recruiting-offices. 

Catherine  had  received  a  message  from  Cond^,  stating 
his  reasons  for  extreme  measures.  She  sent  the  Baron  la 
Garde  to  assure  him  that  "she  would  never  forget  what  he 
might  do  for  her  and  her  son."  But  just  when  the  messen- 
gers of  peace  were  in  conference  there  came  news  of  an 
outrage  at  Sens,  which  caused  the  prince  to  say,  "I  cannot 
lay  down  arms  until  those  most  cruel  enemies  are  driven 
out  of  France."  He  meant  the  Guises.  It  was  said  that 
the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  had  instigated  the  rioters  in  that 
city,  of  which  he  was  archbishop.  A  Huguenot  uttered  his 
*  Freer,  Life  of  Jeanne  d'Albret. 


THK    II'UISIXG    OF    THE    IIUCJUKNOTS.  .'>07 

disgust  at  a  Roinisli  procession.  The  bells  rang  an<l  the 
mob  revelled  for  three  days  in  murder,  sparing  none  of  the 
Keforined  and  ceasing  only  for  want  of  victims.  It  is  re- 
lated that  the  child-king  was  one  day  playing  in  Paris  on 
the  banks  of  the  Seine,  when  he  saw  a  dead  body  floating 
by  and  asked  what  it  was.  "It  is  one  of  your  majesty's 
subjects  coniing  to  demand  justice,"  was  the  reply.  The 
silent  appeal  was  not  likely  to  reach  his  heart.  St.  Croix 
wrote,  "Since  the  massacre  at  Sens  another  great  slaughter 
of  eighty  Huguenots  has  happened,  and  .some  thirty  of  their 
liouses  have  been  burnt  in  that  city."  Chantonnay's  exult- 
ing words  went  to  Philip  of  Spain  :  "  Already  in  many 
parts  of  this  kingdom  the  Catholics  have  rii^en  against  the 
Huguenots,  who  have  had  the  worst  of  it;  and  in  some 
l)laces  the  ])reachers  were  burnt  in  the  market-place."* 

"Lead  us  within  sight  of  the  enemy  ;  that  is  the  best 
way  to  negotiate,"  said  Andelot.  "  March  upon  Paris," 
said  Coligny,  who  had  arrested  a  courier  with  letters  to  the 
court.  "The  Triumvirs  have  but  a  rabble  in  their  hands, 
whom  a  drum  will  scare.  It  is  better  to  have  the  capital 
than  half  the  kingdom."  Conde  refused,  and,  perhaps, 
wisely,  for  the  king'.s  forces  were  not  so  w'eak  as  represented. 
Besides,  he  did  not  wish  to  ruin  himself  politically.  He 
])roposed  to  keep  on  the  defensive  and  send  Andelot  to 
Germany  for  troops. 

"I  object,"  said  Coligny.  "This  is  a  purely  French 
quarrel,  and  let  Frenchmen  settle  it."  He  had  great  conii- 
dence  in  the  Huguenots. 

"  We  must  fight  the  enemy  with  his  own  weapons,"  said 
the  prince.     "The  three  tyrants  who  hold  the  queen  have 

*  De  Thou  fills  jinji;cs  witli  tlie  ma'^sacres  at  Amien-;,  Senlis,  ("ahors, 
Caen,  Meaux,  Troves,  Mous,  Nevei-s,  Anj^ers,  Blois,  Tours,  Rouen, 
Poitiers,  Toulouse,  Angoul^me,  Anxerre,  etc.  See  some  contempora- 
neous pamphlets  in  Mdm.  de  Cond(?. 


308  AD.MlltAL    t'OLIGNY. 

sent  abruiul  to  Spain,  to  Home,  to  Holland  and  to  the 
Turks,  for  aught  we  know,  for  legions  of  soldiers." 

"Then  I  yield  to  a  military  necessity,"  said  Coligny. 
Within  the  course  of  the  summer  Maligny  went  to  England. 
Queen  Elizabeth  was  asked  for  aid.  She  offered  to  grant 
it  on  condition  that  (Jalais  should  be  restored  to  her;  a  price 
too  great  for  Frenchmen  to  pay.  Her  own  secret  agent, 
Throgmorton,  wrote  to  her,  "Howsoever  things  fall  out,  it 
standeth  your  majesty,  for  your  own  safety  and  reputation, 
to  be  well  ware  that  the  Pi'ince  of  Conde  and  his  followers 
be  not  in  this  realm  overthrown."  She  must  do  more  than 
sympathize  and  mediate.  If  Elizabeth  stood  by  while  the 
Triumvirs  cut  the  throats  of  the  Huguenots,  her  own  turn 
would  come  next.  Still  more  urgently  was  the  subject 
pressed  upon  the  cool,  calculating,  half-Protestant  queen. 
At  home  Cecil  was  sketching  the  "  Perils  if  the  Prince  of 
Conde  be  overthrown.  Philip  of  Spain  and  the  Guises 
■would  become  the  dictators  of  Europe ;  Spain  would  have 
Ireland  (and  Scotland  too);  the  council  of  Trent  would 
pass  a  sweeping  sentence  against  all  Protestants,  and  the 
English  Catholics  would  rise  in  universal  rebellion."  All 
gloomy  enough,  certainly,  but  yet  Elizabeth  was  slow  to 
act.  She  must  have  Havre  and  Calais*  as  her  reward. 
She  finally  sent  some  men  and  money,  but  throughout  the 
whole  contest  proved  very  sparing  in  her  supplies  to  her 
Protestant  friends. 

Andelot  went  beyond  the  Phine,  and  in  August  wrote  to 
Calvin,  saying,  "Thank  CJod,  1  have  found  so  much  favour 

*  In  the  treaty  of  Cateau-Cambray,  the  French  promised,  in  certain 
events,  to  restore  Calais  in  1557.  It  was  a  sort  of  peace-morsel  tossed 
to  all  parties.  In  case  of  a  war  between  Koraanists  and  Protestants 
in  England,  Elizabeth  might  unite  them  by  crying,  "Let  us  win 
Calais."  But  could  she  unite  the  warring  French  now  by  demanding 
Calais  five  years  too  soon?     See  Froudc;  Burnet. 


THE    UPRISING    OF   THK    HUGUENOTS.  309 

among  the  jji-inces  [especially  Philij)  ul'  Ilisse]  that  I  hope 
to  lead  back  three  thousand  horse  and  as  many  lancers. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  I  brought  them  to  favour  my 
views  at  all,  and  I  had  almost  begun  to  despair.  I  trust 
that  our  gracious  God  still  wills  to  make  use  of  human 
moans  to  aid  his  Church."  Far  and  wide  rang  the  ajipeals 
of  Calvin,  who  now  thought  that  if  there  must  be  a  war,  it 
should  be  a  good  one.  "I  have  feared  lest  I  should  have 
to  retract  what  I  had  written,"  was  his  word  to  ]Jullingor. 
"Strain  every  nerve  to  procure  troops  from  Berne,  for  if 
the  war  be  protracted  any  longer,  we  are  completely  ruined, 
as  well  as  the  kingdom.  Would  they  [the  Huguenots]  had 
never  left  home!  .  .  .  One  company  has  deserted  to  our 
side;  others  have  promised  not  to  fight  us.  The  French 
cavalry  is  favourable  to  us,  and  that  makes  the  (iuises  very 
uneasy."* 

The  veteran,  Montmorency,  had  acted  as  a  child  which 
vents  its  petulance  upon  toys  and  chairs  by  which  the  little 
foot  has  been  aggrieved.  As  soon  as  the  captured  queen 
had  been  led  back  to  Paris,  he  rushed  out  to  "  Jerusalem," 
laid  hands  on  two  Huguenot  temples,  ripped  up  the  benches, 
smashed  the  pulpits,  pulled  down  the  buildings,  brought 
some  of  the  timbers  into  the  city,  made  a  bonfire  and 
shouted,  "  God  has  not  yet  fi)rsaken  Paris."  The  Hugue- 
nots, in  their  songs  and  pasquinades,  gave  him  the  title  of 
Munsicur  Bnde-banc — Burnbench.  His  lawless  example 
carried  his  admirers  still  farther.  They  ferreted  out  the 
lingering  worshippers  and  revelled  in  j)lnn(ler,  rioting  and 
slaughter.  "  God  knows  how  many  porters  and  rag- 
gatherers  were  made  rich  and  Huguenots  poor,"  says 
Claude  Hat(jn,t  who  reckons  that  more  tlian  eight  hundred 
heretics  were  killed  in  Paris  during  the  June  of  loG'I. 

*  Letter  dcxxxii.,  loth  August,  loG2. 

f  His  chronicle  is  found  in  Documents  snr  I'llistoire  de  France. 


310  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

The  enricliiiig  of  one  class  at  the  expense  of  another  be- 
came general  in  France.  Bran  tome  relates:  "I  heard  two 
good  Catholics  say  that  this  good  civil  war  brought  to  light 
an  infinity  of  treasures  hidden  in  churches.  .  .  .  Many 
gentlemen  had  a  vast  amount  of  money,  all  coined  with  the 
effigy  of  our  little  King  Charles  upon  it.  I  have  seen  those 
who  had  been  greatly  reduced  riding  about  with  half  a 
dozen  good  horses,  jolly  enough.  If  they  caught  bankers, 
they  made  the  crowns  fly  out  of  their  purses ;  and  thus  the 
nobility  were  restored  to  wealth  by  the  grace  of  this  good 
war,  so  well  invented  by  the  great  admiral."  The  abbe 
mistook  the  inventor. 

Coligny  wrote  to  his  violent  uncle,  whom  he  "  had  hon- 
oured and  served  as  a  father."  The  letter  is  full  of  heart 
and  history,  as  a  quotation  may  prove.  The  messenger 
bore  proposals  for  securing  peace: 

"  My  lord,  I  entreat  you  to  consider  the  troubles  of  this 
kingdom,  and  the  calamities  which  must  fall  upon  it  unless 
God  put  forth  his  hand.  And  I  appeal  to  all  just  men  to 
declare  who  are  the  real  cause.  For  yourself,  I  beg  you  to 
consider  in  whose  hands  you  are,  and  whether  your  allies 
be  not  the  very  men  who  have  ever  sworn  and  sought  your 
ruin  and  that  of  your  whole  house.  I  apj^eal  to  your  ex- 
perience when  in  prison  [after  St.  Quentin]  and  throughout 
the  late  king's  reign.  The  most  able  men  may  be  deceived, 
but  to  persist  in  known  error  is  contemptible. 

"  I  entreat  you  to  consider  whether  the  enmity  of  those 
persons  to  ray  brothers  and  myself  be  not  chiefly  on  your 
account.  At  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  Henry  II.  how 
well  we  were  altogether!  It  was  your  injuries  and  your 
discontent  against  them  that  divided  us.  I  know  not,  sir, 
whether  you  are  the  last  one  to  perceive  that  you  will  bo 
held  responsible  for  the  coming  evils,  and  that  you  are 
about  to  bequeath  to  your  house,  as  a  lasting  inheritance, 


THE    UI'KISINC;    or    THE    HU(;rEN()TS.  311 

the  detcstatiuu  of  all  classes,  and  more  especially  of  the 
nobility  of  this  country ;  and  this  only  that  you  may  ag- 
grandize enemies  whose  greatness  will  be  founded  on  your 
own  destruction.  ,  .  .  All  this  company  here  assembled 
have  fully  resolved,  that  as  they  do  not  wish  to  give  law  to 
the  Romish  Church,  neither  will  they  receive  law  from  her. 
.  .  .  God  will  finally  judge  our  intentions,  and  before  him 
I  protest  that  not  one  of  all  this  company  has  taken  arms 
either  against  our  king  or  against  the  Roman  Church,  but 
solely  to  maintain  the  crown  and  to  defend  those  of  our  re- 
ligion from  the  violence  which  has  been  committed  in 
defiance  of  the  throne  and  the  national  assembly  of  this 
kingdom." 

The  proposals  which  Coligny  and  the  prince  had  trans- 
mitted were  very  moderate,  and  to  this  effect:  That  the 
edict  of  January  should  be  observed  by  all  parties ;  that 
all  persons  should  be  compensated  for  injuries  received 
during  the  latest  troubles  ;  that  the  free  agency  of  the  king 
and  queen-mother  should  be  ensured  ;  that  she  should  sepa- 
rate herself  from  the  Triumvirate,  take  her  son  and  remove 
to  some  place  halfway  between  Paris  and  Orleans ;  that 
there  the  chiefs  of  both  parties  should  meet  her  and  give 
an  account  of  their  conduct ;  or,  if  she  should  remain  in 
Paris,  that  Guise  and  his  party  should  lay  down  their  arms 
and  return  to  their  estates,  while  the  same  thing  would  be 
done  by  Conde  and  his  followers,  although,  as  a  prince  of 
the  blood,  he  was  exempt  from  such  an  obligation  ;  and 
that  he  would  give  up  all  his  children  into  the  hands  of  the 
(jueen  as  pledges  of  his  sincerity. 

Well  might  the  prince  add,  that  if  these  proposals  were 
rejected  the  whole  blame  of  the  civil  war  would  rest  upon 
his  adversaries.  The  Triumvirate  issued  a  paper,  in  which 
thoy  unblushingly  stated  that  the  young  king  and  his 
mother  had  conic  to  Paris  by  their  own  consent,  and  wero 


312  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

at  perfect  liberty!  We  need  not  take  up  other  points, 
which  were  as  false  as  they  were  fair.  The  proposals  were 
of  course  rejected  with  attempted  disdain. 

Both  parties  took  the  field.  The  Duke  of  Guise  led  his 
forces  of  seven  thousand  men  toward  Orleans.  No  sooner 
was  this  movement  known  than  the  prince  and  the  admiral 
inax-ched  out  with  their  eiglit  thousand  men  to  meet  them. 
The  little  town  of  Vassodun  bade  fair  to  become  a  scene 
of  war.  Nothing  was  talked  of  but  a  battle.  The  queen 
was  in  di.stres.s.  She  projjosed  a  conference  with  the  Prince. 
They  agreed  to  meet  at  Thoury,  with  a  hundred  gentlemen 
on  each  side,  who  should  keep  at  a  wide  distance  apart. 
The  hour  came.  The  queen  and  Navarre  met  the  prince 
and  Coligny.  While  they  were  talking,  the  chiefs  of  both 
parties  "  yearned  toward  each  other."  They  gazed  for  half 
an  hour,  "one  seeking  with  his  eyes  a  brother,  another  an 
uncle,  a  cousin,  a  friend,  an  ancient  companion.  They 
asked  leave  to  approach.  Leave  was  granted  with  reluct- 
ance, for  it  was  feared  they  would  fall  to  blows.  But  far 
were  they  from  such  feelings.  There  was  nothing  but  salu- 
tations and  embracings,  in  spite  of  the  colours  each  party 
bore — the  troops  of  Navarre  being  clothed  in  cassocks  of 
crimson  velvet,  with  crimson  banners,  and  those  of  Cond6 
in  white,  with  white  banners.  .  .  .  When  all  at  last  began 
to  think  that,  if  their  chiefs  should  not  agree,  these  greet- 
ings would  soon  be  converted  into  bloody  murders,  when 
brother  would  not  spare  brother,  the  tears  sprang  to  their 
eyes.  Myself  was  then  among  the  Protestants" — we  are 
quoting  from  the  literary  captain.  La  None — "and  I  may 
truly  say  that  on  the  other  side  I  had  a  dozen  friends  whom 
I  accounted  as  dear  as  my  own  brethren,  and  who  bore  me 
the  like  affection.  Private  friendships  were  warm  then,  but 
have  since  been  deadened  by  the  miseries  that  followed.  .  .  . 
The  queen   and  the  prince,  having  conferred  about  two 


THE   UPRISING    OF   THE   HUGUENOTS.  313 

hours,  parted  without  coming  to  any  agreement ;  and  all 
the  rest  retired,  extremely  sorrowful  that  there  had  been  no 
better  result." 

A  strange  expedient  had  entered  the  mind  of  Catherine, 
for  which  she  was  partly  indebted  to  Bishop  Montluc,  her 
private  councillor.  It  was  to  persuade  the  chiefs  of  each 
party  to  impose  on  themselves  a  voluntary  exile.  The 
Triumvirs  were  to  leave  the  court;  the  prince  and  the  Co- 
liguys  were  to  take  refuge  iu  some  other  kingdom,  until  the 
majority  of  Charles  IX.  The  idea  was  a  stratagem  of  the 
court.  Conde  seemed  willing  to  accept  the  proi)osal.  "  He 
returned  to  the  camp,"  says  La  None,  whose  pen  ran 
humorously  years  after  in  his  prison,  "  and  he  laughed 
(between  his  teeth)  with  the  gentlemen  who  had  heard  all 
his  talk.  Some  scratched  their  heads  where  there  was  no 
itching,  some  were  pensive,  but  the  younger  sort  gibed  at 
each  other,  wondering  how  they  should  earn  a  living  in  a 
foreign  land."  Coligny  only  saw  a  "rat-trap"  iu  the  pro- 
j)osal.  "  If  you  now  forsake  us,  it  will  be  rumoured  that 
you  are  in  fear,"  said  Andelot.  The  brave  lord  of  Bron- 
carde,  whose  head  was  like  a  loaded  musket,  had  his  word : 
"  I  should  be  loth  to  walk  up  and  down  in  a  foreign  land 
with  a  toothpick  in  my  mouth  (a  glance  at  the  admiral), 
and  know  that  some  flattering  neighbour  was  master  of  my 
house  and  fattening  on  my  revenues."  Beza  urged  the 
])rince :  "  Do  not  give  over  the  good  work  you  have  begun, 
and  God  will  bring  it  to  perfection."  Cond6  yielded,  and 
"  all  shook  hands  in  confirmation  thereof." 

Another  conference  was  held  at  Talcy  (28th  June,  1562), 
but  the  Huguenots  were  only  wasting  time  by  these  parleys. 
Audelot  said  of  them:  "All  these  parlemcntations  are 
nothing  but  swindling  baits,  and  we  shall  never  be  agreed 
till  we  are  brought  within  half  a  league  of  each  other  and 
have  had  a  good  scrimmage  together."  Each  army  was 
Vol.  I.— 27 


314  ADMIRAL    COLIGNV. 

wary  of  the  other,  avoiding  a  general  engagement.  Each 
sent  out  bands  of  men  to  seize  what  towns  and  treasures 
they  could.  Blois  fell  to  the  Duke  of  Guise,  who  outdid 
the  cruelties  at  Vassy, 

The  good  people  of  Beaugency  had  pleasant  memories 
of  John  Calvin,  who  used  to  leave  his  books  behind  him 
and  walk  out  from  Orleans  to  teach  the  glad  tidings  of  lifo 
to  those  whose  first  astonishment  equalled  their  later  faith 
It  became  a  Protestant  toAvn.  No  doubt  they  were  willing 
to  quarter  the  Prince  of  Conde  and  his  body-guard  among 
them  while  he  still  carried  on  these  parleys.  He  was  there 
at  Catherine's  suggestion,  as  the  bridge  over  the  Loire  would 
be  a  good  spot  for  a  conference.  He  took  no  hostages  of 
Navarre,  for  he  relied  upon  the  mere  word  of  a  brother  and 
of  Catherine.  He  sent  away  the  Protestant  garrison.  But 
soon  he  found  himself  in  a  trap.  The  queen  shut  him  up 
in  the  place,  set  her  garrison  over  it  and  put  it  in  a  state 
of  defence  against  the  admiral. 

Coligny  was  so  indignant  at  this  perfidy  that  he  marched 
suddenly  upon  the  enemy's  camp  and  rescued  Conde,  for 
the  queen  was  now  in  haste  to  give  him  up  unharmed.  A 
fight  exposed  the  village  to  the  plunder  of  the  admiral's 
troops.  They  broke  over  all  restraints  and  put  their  com- 
manders to  shame.* 

The  admiral  had  now  his  headquarters  at  Bourges.  One 
day  he  learned  that  a  battering-train,  with  a  quantity  of 
gunpowder,  was  on  its  way  to  the  Duke  of  Guise,  under 
command  of  De  Chon,  a  Lorrainer  and  no  bad  soldier. 
"  What !  six  troops  of  cavalry  and  an  array  of  infantry !" 
said  Coligny.  "  They  must  want  to  be  sure  of  their  pow- 
der, or  intend  to  attack  us.  AVe  will  see  to  that."  He 
marched  out  with  his  cavalry.  Coming  near,  De  Chon 
challenged  him  to  a  single  combat. 

*  Vita  Colinii ;  Courtiltz,  Vie  de  Coligny. 


Tin:  Ti^nsTxr;  of  tiif  iircsT' knots.  315 

"  1  Imvo  a  greater  war  on  liaixl  tliaii  a  duel,"  replied  (.'o- 
ligny.  "You  can  have  fight  enough,  if  you  desire."  His 
soldiers  made  a  hrisk  charge,  routed  the  powder  train,  and 
heard  the  leader  crying  out  to  his  men,  "Ah,  cowards!  is 
this  what  you  promised  me?" 

Two  horsemen  then  quitted  their  ranks  and  approached 
the  admiral,  who  ordere<l  them  to  be  taken  alive,  if  possible. 
They  fought  desj)erately.  One  slew  two  or  three  of  the 
other  party  and  then  fell  dead  ;  the  other  was  captured. 
"Why  did  your  captain  insult  me  by  his  challenge?"  in- 
quired the  admiral. 

He  refused  to  explain  at  first,  but  finally  said,  "I  and 
my  friend  were  ofiered  a  large  reward  if  we  should  kill 
Coligny  at  the  time  of  the  duel.  De  Chon  promised  it, 
giving  us  each  a  proof-cuirass  and  good  arms." 

"Your  slain  comrade  has  his  reward  for  such  an  outrage 
upon  honourable  warfare.  Be  wiser  by  his  f:\te.  Go  free, 
and  tell  vour  master  that  we  are  not  highwaymen."  Co- 
ligny then  ])iled  in  one  heap  the  cai)tured  guns,  gunpowder, 
carriages  and  useless  spoil,  and  when  he  apjjlied  the  match, 
"  his  soldiers  were  much  astonished  at  the  noise  !"*  The 
spiking  of  guns  was  not  then  understood. 

During  some  of  the  struggles  near  Beaugency,  Admiral 
Coligny  bore  a  heavy  grief  upon  his  heart.  God  had  given 
him  several  children  ;  he  loved  (iaspard,  his  oldest,  as  his 
own  soul.  This  son  had  studied  under  a  renowned  master 
and  given  promise  of  distinction.  His  father  hoped  to  see 
him  become  eminent  in  military  life.  AVc  recall  the  haste 
with  which  the  admiral  went  from  Chatillon  to  Orleans. 
His  wife  and  children  soon  followed,  and  this  son  fell  sick 
of  a  fever,!  when  the  admiral  was  taking  the  active  march. 

*  Vita  Colinli ;  Courtilz,  Browning. 

f  Perliap,s  the  plague,  whieli  young  DWubign^  h:ul  about  the  same 
time.     Thousands  of  poor  refugees  diod  ^vill)  it,     Beza  says  ten  thou- 


316  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

Por  seven  days  his  mother  watched  over  him,  unwilling  to 
give  him  up;  but  "the  Lord  took  him."  As  usual,  the 
admiral  sought  to  lessen  his  wife's  sorrow  by  concealing  his 
own.  His  chaplain,  Merlin,  thought  the  admiral  ought  to 
show  more  sympathy,  and  visited  him  in  camp.  Coligny 
sent  back  the  following  letter,  which  reveals  the  sources  of 
his  strength : 

"  That  you  may  have  reason  to  support  yourself  under 
the  grief  for  our  beloved  son,  remember  that  he  belonged 
to  God  more  than  to  us.  Fall  back  upon  that  faith  which 
can  give  you  submission  to  his  holy  will.  It  is  true  that 
he  deserved  to  be  loved  by  us,  and  that  we  hoped  for  great 
satisfaction  from  one  so  well  born  and  so  promising.  But 
remember,  my  beloved  Charlotte,  that  he  could  not  live 
longer  without  displeasing  God.  It  was  better  for  him  to 
die  at  his  age,  so  that  he  might  be  free  from  all  future  sin. 
Finally,  God  teaches  that  we  should  offer  to  him  all  our 
other  children,  so  that  if  it  be  his  will  he  may  make  them 
more  bles.sed  than  we  can  do.  Adieu.  I  hope  that  you 
can  share  with  me  in  my  joy  as  I  do  in  your  sorrow. 
Written  from  camp."  *  In  her  piety,  Madame  Coligny  de- 
rived fresh  comfort  from  the  will  of  God. 

A  more  public  woe  fell  upon  all  Protestant  France.  The 
bloodiest  annals  of  legislation  may  be  challenged  to  pro- 
duce a  more  inhuman  decree  than  was  issued  by  the  parlia- 
ment of  Paris.     The  hands  of  the  pope,  of  Philipf  and  of 

sand  persons  perislied,  but  very  few  of  tliem  were  soldiers.  A  general 
fast  was  ordered  by  the  Protestant  ministers;  the  plague  ceased.  Paris 
also  was  visited,  but  the  statement  tliat  eighty  thousand  died  there  in 
tlie  summer  of  1562  seems  exaggerated. 

*  Vita  Colinii. 

t  Pius  V.  ordered  collentions  to  be  raised.  Throgmorton  wrote: 
"The  pope  hath  lent  one  hundred  thousand  crowns,  and  doth  pay  be- 
sides six  tliousand  soldiers."    Philip  promised  military  support.    The 


THK   UIMMSINC    OF    TlIi:    II  ((M*  KNOTS.  1^7 

the  Triiinvir.s  were  in  it.  J>y  one  stroke  of  the  pen  tlie  en- 
tire Huguenot  population  was  j)roscribed,  and  all  Konian- 
ists  commanded  to  arm  in  every  parish,  and  at  the  sound 
of  the  bell  or  the  drum  to  rise  and  slay  their  neighbours 
without  merey,  without  respect  to  age  or  ties  of  family  and 
without  fear  of  being  called  to  any  account.*  Each  of  the 
three  tyrants  was  a  Ilaman,  using  tlie  king's  signet  ring, 
and  she  whom  Coligny  had  twic^e  called  the  Esther  of  the 
Protestants  was  either  heartless  or  powerless. 

Then  might  be  heard  from  Roman  Catholic  pulpits  on 
every  Sabbath  day  the  murderous  decree  read  by  the  pastor 
to  his  congregation,  which  coniiiuaidt'd  them  to  massacre 
and  pillage  their  innocent  brethren  and  acquaintances. 
Then  might  be  henrd  tlic  clang  of  the  rural  village  bell, 
summoning  those  who  had  ever  stood  in  horror  of  shedding 
human  blood  in  their  quiet  streets,  to  slaughter  the  com- 
])ani()ns  of  their  toil,  their  fellow-shepherds  on  the  hills  and 

Frencli  ambassador  at  Maihitl  wrote  (1st  May,  1562):  "They  devise 
liow  tlie  Guiseans  may  be  assisted,  wliose  cause  is  as  dear  to  them  as 
their  eyeballs."     All  for  destroying  the  French  heretics! 

*  Twenty  years  before,  the  inquisitor  Caraflii  had  this  amonnf  the 
"best  rules  that  he  could  devise"  for  exterminating  heresy:  "No  man 
must  debiise  himself  by  showing  toleration  toward  heretics  of  any 
kind,  above  all  tcnvard  Calvinists." — lianke,  Hist.  Popes,  Boliii's  eil., 

i.  1.",;). 

If  such  rules  were  fully  abandoned  in  our  age,  we  should  treat  them 
as  matters  of  "the  dead  past."  But  at  Rome  itself  certain  Protestants 
were  recently  excluded  from  the  city  limits,  and  barely  allowed  to 
worsliip  outside  the  city  gates.  Among  other  defences  of  the  action 
was  the  following,  in  the  New  York  Tablet.  1SG7:  "As  Protestants 
liave  no  divine  authority  to  teach  or  govern,  they  have  no  right  to 
send  missionaries  or  to  open  places  of  worship  wliere  tiie  national 
authority  forbids  it.  They  liave  from  God  no  right  of  propagandism, 
and  religious  liberty  is  in  no  sense  violated  when  the  national  author- 
ity, whether  Catholic  or  pagan,  closes  iheir  mouths  and  tiuir  places 
of  holding  forth." 
27  « 


318  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

fellow-wor.sliippers  in  the  cliurcli.  Then  might  be  seen  the 
peasant  leaving  liis  corn  and  liis  vines  and  rushing  with  the 
bhidgeon  into  his  neighbours'  fields,  and  repeating  the 
crime  of  Cain  upon  Abel.  Then  the  Huguenot  mother 
shut  the  doors  of  her  house,  gathered  her  children  about 
her  and  prayed  to  God  that  he  would  send  deliverance. 
Her  very  cries  to  Jehovah  are  a  jiroof  that  she  is  worthy 
of  death.  At  sunset  a  smoking  brand  is  all  that  is  left  of 
that  house,  and  human  ashes  are  mingled  with  the  native 
soil.  A  brutal  herdsman  gathers  his  band,  wanders  through 
the  valleys  and  mountains  and  deals  with  overtaken  fugi- 
tives as  the  enemies  of  God,  the  country  and  the  Church. 
We  could  cite  facts,  for  the  names  of  towns  and  of  men  are 
recorded,  but  even  general  statements  are  too  horrible  for 
history.  Even  the  poet,  Ronsard,  whose  elegant  verses  had 
charmed  the  leisure  of  Mary  Stuart  and  won  the  laurel 
wreath  from  scholars,  headed  a  mob  and  executed  the  bar- 
barous decree.  The  Romanist,  Castelnau,  tells  us  that 
"  fifty  thousand  persons  are  said  to  have  perished  in  these 
disorders."  The  monks  called  this  "  Icttiurj  slip  the  big 
(jrayhound  !" 

Nor  was  this  the  whole  of  the  proposed  tragedy.  The 
trio  induced  parliament,  "  with  much  vivacity,"  to  brand 
as  I'ebels  and  traitors  all  Protestants  who  sack  towns,  pillage 
churches  and  continue  the  war,  excepting  only  the  Prince 
of  Conde,  whom  they  hoped  to  lure  by  this  special  favour. 
Conde  heard  of  it,  and  doubted  whether  his  name  was  an 
exception.  To  his  inquiries  they  replied  in  hard  and 
haughty  terms.  "This  article,"  said  he,  "  merits  another 
sort  of  a  response  than  that  of  the  pen  ;  and  I  hope  in  a 
few  days  to  go  with  the  sword  in  my  hand  and  find  out 
whether  it  is  proper  for  a  foreigner  and  his  two  companions 
to  declare  a  sentence  against  a  prince  of  the  blood  and  the 
greater  part  of  the  first  nobility  of  this  realm." 


TlIK    UPRIlilNCi    OF    Till;    Ml  <;  T  KNOT??.  319 

"It  is  over  to  hv  r('iiU'iiil)orc(l,"  siiy.s  A^ripjui  I)'Aiil)i^aie, 
"that  po  long  as  the  Ilcfonuod  were  j)iit  to  death  under 
form  of  justice,  however  ini(juilous  and  cruel  it  might  be, 
they  held  out  their  necks  and  had  no  hands  for  resistance. 
But  when  the  magistrates,  wearied  of  burnings,  flung  the 
knife  into  the  hands  of  the  people,  and  the  tumults  and 
enormous  massacres  of  France  tore  away  the  venerable 
aspect  of  justice,  and  made  neighbour  to  slaughter  neigh- 
bour at  the  sound  of  trumpet  and  drum,  who  could 
forbid  the  wretches  to  oppose  arms  to  arms,  steel  to  steel, 
and  catch  from  an  unjust  fury  the  contagion  of  a  righteous 
rage?  .  .  .  Let  foreign  nations  judge  which  of  the  two 
parties  has  its  forehead  stained  with  the  crime  of  war."  * 

Could  an  army  be  restrained  from  violence  when  such 
inhuman  decrees  rested  upon  the  home  and  family  of  every 
Huguenot  soldier?  "When  this  war  began,"  says  La 
Noue,  "the  chiefs  and  captains  in  the  Huguenot  army  still 
remembered  the  fine  military  order  of  the  days  of  Francis 
and  Henry.  The  soldiers,  too,  had  a  memory  of  it,  which 
kept  them  to  their  duty;  and  still  more  jjower  had  the  con- 
stant preachings  and  remonstrances  of  their  ministers,  who 
exhorted  them  not  to  oppress  the  ))oor  jieople.  The  zeal 
of  religion  was  strong  among  them  then.    ^Marching  through 

*  Ilistoire  UnivorsfUe.  Tlie  aiulior  of  tliis  valnahlo  cliroiiicle  was 
a  stiidcnl  iti  Paris  at  the  time  of  which  we  write.  The  Triumvirs 
onlered  all  Protestants  to  leave  the  city,  ami,  with  his  teacher  Beralde 
and  his  family,  he  (led  to  A[illy.  There  they  were  seized,  flung  into 
prison  and  given  up  to  the  inquisitor.  Young  D'.\ubignd  was  un- 
moved until  his  little  sword  was  taken  from  him.  Then  he  wept,  but 
would  not  deny  his  faith.  Wiien  told  that  he  might  he  relea.sed  if  he 
would  abjure,  lie  said,  "  I  have  more  horror  of  the  mass  than  of  death." 
He  paid  the  keeper  of  the  prison  large  moneys,  and  escaped  with  his 
company  to  Orleans,  where  he  joined  his  father,  a  commander  in  the 
Huguenot  army.  He  was  then  sixteen  years  of  age.  He  almost  died 
of  the  plague. 


320  ADMIRAL    ('<)LlC;:i'Y. 

the  country,  tliej'  neilher  pillaged  nor  ill-treated  their  hosts, 
contenting  themselves  with  little,  and  those  who  had  the 
means  paying  honestly.  If  a  man  committed  a  crime, 
nobody  would  plead  for  him,  so  great  was  their  detestation 
of  wickedness. 

"  Many  were  astonished  at  this  fine  order,  and  I  remem- 
ber my  brother,  Teligny,  and  myself,  discoursing  with  the 
admiral,  praised  it  highly.  '  It  is  a  fine  thing,'  said  he, 
"provided  it  lasts,  but  I  fear  this  people  will  soon  tire  of 
their  virtue.'  Even  so  early  as  the  taking  of  Beaugency 
a  decline  of  discipline  was  perceptible.  .  .  .  There  was  born 
Mademoiselle  de  la  Picoree  (pillage),  who  has  since  risen 
to  such  dignity.  She  is  now  madame,  and,  if  things  con- 
tinue, she  will  soon  become  princess.  .  .  .  The  admiral 
spai-ed  no  pains  to  remedy  it,  and  none  need  expect  to  es- 
cape by  frivolous  excuses,  for  they  were  worth  nothing  to 
him."  Still,  the  contrast  between  the  two  armies  was  re- 
markable. Every  sort  of  outrage  was  a  part  of  warfare 
among  the  soldiers  of  the  trio. 

There  was  enough  to  arouse  the  vengeance  of  a  people 
as  humane  or  as  human  as  the  Huguenots.  But  their  Avrath 
sti'uck  upon  church  buildings,  monasteries,  images  and  things 
lifeless  before  it  fell  upon  men.  It  aimed  at  the  objects  of  a 
false  devotion  and  not  the  devotee.  And  yet  they  have 
been  called  the  Vandals  of  the  Church,  the  destroyers  of  art, 
the  enemies  of  the  beautiful  and  the  ancient.  AVe  may  re- 
gret that  fine  windows  were  broken,  statues  demolished, 
pictures  cut  w'ith  the  sword,  crypts  ransacked,  sacred  furni- 
ture despoiled,  leaden  roofs  run  into  cannon  balls,  and  cathe- 
drals of  four  hundred  years  riddled  in  an  hour.  But  let 
those  who  make  so  much  ado  and  weep  over  it  all  remember 
that  there  were  living  monuments  more  precious  than  those 
which  fell  at  the  hammer's  stroke;  and  who  first  struck  at 
them  ?     AVho  first  shattered    those  tabernacles   in   which 


THE    UPRISING    OF    THE    HUGUENOTS.  321 

dwelt  liuman  souls?  Who  first  smote  to  the  dust  those 
temples  of  God  ?  Weep  over  tlie  broken  marble !  Yet 
those  mute  stones  could  he  replaced.  But  who  could  give 
back  to  France  those  once  living  statues,  after  they  were 
mutilated  and  cast  in  their  blood  to  the  earth  ?  One  was 
the  work  of  man,  and  at  this  the  indignant  Huguenot  aimed 
when  he  sought  revenge.  The  other  was  the  work  of  (Jod, 
and  who  first  were  the  destroyers  of  his  art,  his  building 
and  the  crowning  glory  of  his  hand,  having  upon  it  the  age 
of  more  than  five  thousand  years?  And  whose  was  the 
greater  sin?  The  charge  that  Protestantism  destroyed  art 
is  false ;  but  if  this  be  the  most  serious  cluu'ge  made  by 
aisthetics,  it  may  be  patiently  borne.* 

And  yet  we  can  aftbrd  to  be  honest.  The  day  came  when 
there  were  some  sad  instances  of  Huguenot  retaliation. 
The  worst  may  now  sviffice.  In  the  South  of  France  ap- 
peared Beaumont,  Baron  des  xVdrets.  Never  a  true  Hu- 
guenot, rather  a  furious  malcontent,  he  drew  the  sword  in 
the  name  of  Conde,  swept  over  the  country  and  threw  the 
j)ope  into  alarm  lest  this  Attila  should  dash  down  upon 
Rome.  He  sought  to  injure  the  Romanists  as  nuich  as  the 
fiery  Montluc  injured  the  Protestants.  As  soon  as  his  cruel 
character  was  known  he  was  severely  rebuked  by  C'oligny 
and  Calvin.  He  is  w-rongly  entitled  a  "  Calvinist  cliief;" 
no  such  man  could  be  figliting  for  conscience,  for  religion 
and  for  God. 

The  Huguenot  town  of  Orange  was  assailed  by  some 
Romanists,  who  fell  upon  the  inhabitants  like  wolves  from 
the  barren  Pyrenees.  They  hacked  these  poor  people  in 
])icces,  l)uriit  them  at  dull  fires,  lelt  them  to  slowly  die  of 
nuitilatioiis,  treated  young  women  so  that  death  was  wel- 
come to  them,  stripped  noble  ladies  and  pasted  on  them  the 
torn  leaves  of  their  Geneva  Bibles,  and  revelkil  in  lust  as 
*  Piiaiix  ;  Proseott's  MisccIIaiieoiK  l'>savs. 


322  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

if  they  were  demons.  A  detacliinont  of  these  wretches, 
fresh  from  the  scene,  were  surprised  by  Des  Adrets.  In  a 
fort  they  might  have  defended  themselves,  but  vilhvins  are 
cowardly,  and  he  made  short  work  of  them,  hurling  them 
over  the  rocks,  tearing,  torturing  and  slaying  with  a  terrible 
revenge.     Hei'e  was  some  show  of  retaliation. 

But  this  man,  warring  in  his  own  way,  went  to  INIont- 
brisson.  It  surrendered  without  a  blow,  and  he  had  cause 
to  be  merciful.  But  a  plank  was  run  out  from  the  castle 
walls,  and  man  by  man  the  garrison  were  told  to  walk  out 
upon  it  and  off  it.  That  or  worse,  and  the  horrible  scene 
began.  .  He  sat  below  ;  down  came  one  soldier,  another 
upon  him,  and  a  third,  and  the  ghastly  heap  increased, 
while  he  "shouted  to  the  victims  to  make  haste  as  they 
shivered  at  the  hideous  leap."  One  lingered,  turned  back, 
came  a  second  time  and  halted.  "What!"  exclaimed  the 
baron,  "do  you  take  twice  for  it?" 

"  I  will  give  you  ten  times  to  do  it  iu !"  was  the  instant 
reply.     It  won  him  his  pardon. 

The  cruelties  of  this  man  were  paraded  in  Roman  Cath- 
olic camps  and  pulpits — only  praise,  however,  being  given 
to  his  rival  Montluc.  Yet  who  was  Des  Adrets?  Some 
have  said  that  he  was  but  the  tool  of  the  crafty  Catherine. 
Let  Romanists  be  the  witnesses  of  his  character  and  mo- 
tives. They  were  not  Protestant.  Maimbourg  says  that 
he  blindly  threw  himself  into  the  Huguenot  party  to  revenge 
himself  on  the  Duke  of  Guise  and  destroy  Guise's  authority 
in  the  south,  and  that  the  queen  encouraged  him.  The 
Abbe  Caveyrac  says  that  "  he  returned  sincerely  to  God 
and  his  king."  He  had  never  been  a  true  Protestant. 
Had  he  been  a  sort  of  military  Jesuit,  acting  a  part  that 
would  throw  confusion  into  all  parties  and  help  Catherine 
to  power?  We  doubt  whether  the  queen  endorsed  him. 
Certainly  Coligny  did  not.      He  was  soon  removed  and 


THE    UPRISING    OF    THK    HUGUENOTS.  323 

the  excellent  Soubise  put  in  his  office  as  governor  of 
Lyons,  and  this  before  his  "sincere  return"  to  the  Roman 
Church.* 

*Tliii;ini  Hist.;  Baylc;  D'Aiibign^,  Hist.  Universelle ;  Maimbourg, 
J  list,  du  C':ilviiiisrue. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THROV^GU    WAR    TO    I'JEACK. 
(1J5G3-15C3.) 

THE  contagious  example  of  Montmorency  had  brought 
anarchy  even  into  Paris.  Catherine  and  the  king  were 
under  a  strong  guard  at  the  castle  of  Vincennes,  for  they 
dared  not  "  to  commit  themselves  into  the  hands  of  the  fu- 
rious Parisians,  who  did  most  cruelly  use  and  kill  every 
person,  no  age  or  sex  excejited,  that  they  took  to  be  con- 
trary to  their  religion."  Thus  wrote  the  English  ambassa- 
dor, Throgmorton,  who  was  obnoxious  to  all  parties  except 
the  Huguenots.  Before  he  should  give  place  to  another, 
he  set  out  for  the  camp  of  Guise  at  Blois,  attaching  him- 
self to  a  convoy  of  artillery  and  powder.  Was  it  the  one 
under  De  Chon?  Its  fate  was  similar,  for  Coligny  seized  it, 
and  led  Throgmorton  to  Orleans. 

There  they  talked  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  her  needed  aid, 
her  settled  price.  "  If  Guise  gets  the  upper  hand  of  you," 
said  the  Englishman,  "  then  we  shall  all  be  ruined  by  Spain 
and  the  pope.  Give  back  Calais  to  Elizabeth  ;  let  her  sol- 
diers hold  Havre  as  a  pledge,  and  she  will  loan  you  a  hun- 
dred thousand  crowns,  and  spend  forty  thousand  more  on 
the  defence  of  Rouen." 

"  Can  we  introduce  the  English  into  Xorraandy  or  sur- 
render Calais  without  the  appearance  of  treason?"  inquired 
the  admiral.  "  It  will  be  a  great  note  of  infamy,"  said 
Conde.  "  Your  queen  asks  too  much.  She  is  interested 
in  her  own  defence,  and  should  be  willing  to  serve  us  a 

324 


THIJOUGH    WAR    TO    PKA<  E.  325 

good  turn  as  well  as  herself."  But  Elizabeth  drove  hard 
bargains.  She  must  have  Calais,  "  and  Havre  too,"  said 
her  agent ;  "  it  would  be  cheap  even  at  a  million  of  crowns." 
►Some  sort  of  an  agreement  was  made.  An  English  army 
took  Havre  ;  *  other  troops  set  out  for  Rouen. 

Guise  sought  to  prevent  it,  but  seeing  it  was  too  late,  he 
offered  Conde  the  edict  of  January  and  universal  toleration. 
"Will  parliament  i)ut  the  seal  to  your  promise?"  asked 
the  prince  and  tlic  admiral.  Of  course  not.  One  thing 
was  gained;  the  Triumvirate  must  now  fight  the  English. 

Already  was  the  siege  of  Rouen  in  progress.  On  the 
last  of  September,  Guise  sat  down  before  it  in  force ;  the 
queen-mother,  the  boy-king,  Navarre,  Montmorency  and 
St.  Andre  all  present.  Within  the  gates  was  the  valiant 
Scot,  Montgomery,  and  a  small  garrison.  In  the  town  all 
was  sober  and  severe ;  no  games,  no  shows,  only  sermons, 
prayers,  psalms,  faith  in  God,  liope  against  hope,  and  a 
heroism  that  sent  frail  women  to  work  on  the  walls.  Five 
weeks  were  wearing  away,  when  some  boats  were  bringing 
up  the  river  a  force  of  English  privateers,  under  such  bold 
men  as  Wyatt  the  insurgent  and  "  Strangways  the  rover." 
The  boats  were  attacked  ;  one  ran  upon  the  sands.  The 
crews  were  seized  and  taken  into  the  camp  of  Guise,  who 
hanged  them  on  trees  with  this  writing  above  their  heads : 

*  The  rules  laid  down  for  tlie  f]nglisli  poldiers,  while  holding  Havre, 
might  be  supposed  to  have  corae  from  Admiral  Coligny,  they  were  bo 
like  his  own:  "Every  captain  and  soldier,  immediately  after  their 
arrival  in  the  church  or  market-place,  shall  devoutly  together  yield 
thanks  to  God,  by  singing  of  some  psalm  or  other  devout  prayer  that 
shall  be  appointed,  for  their  good  passage  and  safe  arrival.  .  .  .  Every 
soldier  shall  behave  himself  toward  the  French  in  all  loving,  cour- 
teous and  gentle  manner."  ...  No  tliefts — no  cards — no  profane 
swearing.  .  .  .  "No  soldier  shiill  keep  any  woman  other  than  his 
wedded  wife." — Vide  Frouilf,  ///,-/.  Emjland,  vii.  loO. 
Vol.  I.— 28 


326  ADiMIKAJ.    COLIGNV. 

"  Hung  for  having!;  come  agcainfjt  the  will  of  the  queen  of 
England  to  the  service  of  the  Huguenots."  The  rest  cut 
their  way  into  Rouen,  and  better  fulfilled  the  will  of  Eliza- 
beth.* 

"  We  must  conquer  before  Andelot  conies  with  his  Ger- 
mans," said  Guise.  A  furious  assault  was  made.  The 
walls  gave  way.  Montgomery  barely  escaped.  No  mercy 
was  shown  to  the  inhabitants.  The  pillage  lasted  eight 
days,  Brantorae  says,  "  without  i-egard  to  one  religion  or 
the  other."  Then  came  judicial  murders  by  the  parliament. 
Among  other  victims  was  Augustin  Marlorat,  one  of  the 
twelve  ministers  whom  we  saw  at  Poissy.  He  was  a  man 
of  learning,  piety  and  moderation,  highly  esteemed  among 
the  faithful.  The  Constable  Montmorency  wished  to  see 
him,  and  at  the  interview  accused  him  of  having  seduced 
the  people.  "  If  I  have  done  so,"  replied  the  devoted  min- 
ister of  Christ,  "  God  first  seduced  me,  for  I  have  preached 
to  them  the  simple  word  of  God."  The  constable  insulted 
him  on  the  way  to  the  gibbet,  where  he  exhorted  his  fellow- 
suflTerers  to  glorify  God  to  their  last  breath.  He  was  hanged 
in  front  of  the  cathedral,  whose  splendour  may  cause  the 
traveller  to  forget  the  sacrifice  there  made  for  true  liberty 
of  conscience. 

The  story  of  Francis  de  Civille  might  be  told  for  the  hun- 
dreth  time  and  still  retain  its  freshness.  He  was  a  private 
gentleman,  who  came  to  defend  the  city.  Bravely  holding 
his  place  in  the  front  rank  of  his  company,  he  was  wounded 
in  the  neck  by  a  musket-ball ;  he  fell  back  into  the  trench, 
gave  no  signs  of  life,  and  was  loosely  covered  with  earth. 
The  rude  burial  happened  about  midday.  At  nightfall 
his  servant  came  to  recover  the  body  and  send  it  to  his 
family.  But  he  found  two  bodies  in  the  trench,  and  not 
being  able  to  tell  which  was  that  of  his  master,  he  replaced 
*  Mezerav  ;  De  Thou. 


TllKorcill    WAll   TO    PEACE.  327 

them  in  Llicir  graves.  On  turning  away,  he  noticed  an  arm 
still  uncovered,  and  stooped  to  give  it  protection.  In  the 
moonliglit  his  eye  caught  the  glimmer  of  his  master's  dia- 
mond ring,  and,  overjoyed  at  this  first  discovery,  he  drew 
tlie  body  from  its  place.  lie  found  warmth  remaining,  and 
took  it  to  the  surgeons.  They  were  burdened  with  labour, 
and  declined  to  treat  so  de,sperate  a  case.  Four  days  passed. 
The  servant  proved  that  life  was  not  gone.  The  surgeons 
kindly  attended  to  him.  He  began  to  recover.  Just  then 
the  city  was  taken,  and  the  rude  soldiers  dragged  him  from 
his  couch  and  threw  him  out  of  the  window.  There  he  lay 
for  three  days  without  any  attention,  until  an  old  friend 
discovered  him  almost  lifeless.  He  was  nursed  with  gentle- 
ness, and  carried  from  Rouen  in  a  boat.  "  I  saw  him,"  says 
D'Aubignt',  "forty-two  years  afterward,  as  a  delegate  for 
Normandy  in  the  General  Assembly  (of  the  Reformed 
Church).  I  observed  that  he  always  added  to  his  signature, 
'Thrice  dead,  thrice  buried,  and  thrice  raised,  by  the  grace 
of  God.'  The  ministers,  for  what  reason  it  would  be  hard 
to  divine,  endeavoured  in  vain  to  make  him  give  up  this 
addition  to  his  name." 

The  fate  of  the  King  of  Xavarre  was  less  happy.  "Wound- 
ed and  in  agony,  he  was  carried  from  the  trenches  to  play 
the  fool  with  his  mistress,  and  disgust  his  visitors  with  his 
perpetual  theme,  the  orange  groves  and  golden  rivers  of  his 
promised  .Sardinia.  In  a  few  days  the  wound  was  shown 
to  be  mortal.  His  levity  ceased ;  he  gave  his  whole  mind 
to  repentance.  He  warned  Catherine  of  the  evil  intentions 
of  Spain  and  the  Triumvirate.  She  commended  to  him  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  The  ruling  passion  strong  in  death,  he 
wavered  again  between  the  two  great  creeds.  To  his  Papal 
physician  and  to  the  priest  he  was  a  devout  Romanist. 
To  the  Protestant  physician,  sent  him  by  Conde,  he  seemed 
a  penitent  Lutheran.      He  declared  that  if  he  recovered 


328  ADMIRAL    COT.IGNY. 

be  would  openly  profess  the  Augsburg  Confession,  and  sent 
word  to  his  brother  that  he  would  labour  to  promote  the 
Reform,  No  one  had  any  confidence  in  his  words.  He 
had  trifled  away  the  most  splendid  opportunities  and  be- 
trayed the  heaviest  trusts.  At  the  age  of  forty-four  he 
died,  worthy  of  the  sentence  of  Pasquier,  "  regretted  neither 
by  one  party  nor  the  other."  * 

There  are  solemn  lessons  in  the  career  of  such  a  man. 
We  see  how  worthless  fair  talents  may  be  without  principles 
— how  ruinous,  indeed,  to  himself  and  the  cause  he  may  ad- 
vocate. Antony  Bourbon  had  once  gained  honours  in  bat- 
tle. Courage  in  some  way  may  dazzle  the  eyes  of  men,  but 
God  looks  for  a  conscience  well  directed  by  his  holy  Word. 
The  end  of  tliis  prince,  deluded  and  deluding  others,  was 
loudly  proclaiming  to  the  Huguenots,  "  Put  not  your  con- 
fidence in  princes."  "  Trust  ye  in  the  Lord  for  ever ;  for 
in  the  Lord  Jehovah  is  everlasting  strength.  For  he 
bringeth  down  them  that  dwell  on  high  ;  the  lofty  city  lie 
layeth  it  low  ;  he  layeth  it  low,  even  to  the  ground  ;  he  bring- 
eth it  even  to  the  dust." 

The  Prince  of  Conde  now  claimed  that  he  ought  to  be 
made  lieutenant-general  as  the  successor  of  his  deceased 
brother.  But  if  he  was  tempted  to  betray  his  party  for  the 
sake  of  the  high  office,  Coligny  was  at  hand  to  give  him 
nerve  and  keep  before  his  mind  the  cause  of  God  in  which 
they  were  enlisted.  They  fell  back  to  Orleans.  Their  de- 
feat at  Rouen  threw  a  chill  upon  the  Huguenots,  whose 
brilliant  successes  had  fired  their  ardour.  On  all  sides  they 
beheld  a  series  of  reverses.  The  successes  were  in  the 
North,  too  far  away  to  strengthen  the  main  army.  Numer- 
ous towns  were  lost.  Even  at  headquarters  an  evil  spirit 
was  at  work.  Many  Huguenot  gentlemen  and  soldiers  de- 
serted to  the  king's  camp,  where  they  were  well  received 
*  Thuanus,  Brantome,  Castelnau. 


TIlKorcH    WAK    'lO    I'KACE.  329 

and  givi'ii  li'tl(  rs  of  piinloii.     Jii  oldtii  times,  David,  proba- 
bly, saw  some  such  politicians  go  over  to  Saul. 

One  day  an  almost  breathless  messenger  came  to  Orleans 
Avith  a  letter  in  cypher.  The  prince  read  it,  and  said  to 
Coligny,  "  Your  prayer  is  answered.  Andelot  has  crossed 
the  Rhine  with  four  thousand  reiters  and  lancers,  swept 
across  Ivorraine,  evaded  the  roving  band.s  that  sought  to 
waylay  liini,  and  is  within  a  few  days'  march  of  us.  Now 
let  us  move  u[)on  Paris."  Just  up  in  the  little  town  of 
Pluvieres  a  few  regiments  were  avenging  some  of  the  Rouen 
calamities,  hanging  some  priests,  and  SJiying  to  the  Papists, 
"  As  j'ou  brew,  you  must  drink." 

Into  this  town  Andelot  was  borne  in  a  litter,  sick  with 
the  (piartan  ague.  The  rough  German  riders  were  hailed 
with  cheers  and  given  a  month's  pay  in  advance,  the  money, 
says  La  None,  "being  picked  up  here  and  there,  for  it  is 
the  usual  malady  of  the  Huguenots  to  be  always  short  of 
funds."  The  chronic  malady  of  the  reiters  was  to  be  always 
eager  for  pay  and  plunder.  E.stamjies  was  taken,  then  Cor- 
beil.  ""We  will  cause  a  little  trouble  in  the  kitchen  where 
the  war  was  cooked,"  said  La  Noue ;  "  the  Parisians  shall 
have  a  taste  of  their  own  dinner."  Cond6  wa.s  intent  upon 
seizing  the  capital,  which  was  thrown  into  alarm.  He  may 
not  have  known  that  Guise  and  his  army  were  fast  march- 
ing down  from  Normandy,  which  he  had  almost  laid  waste. 

"I  object,"  answered  Coligny;  "our  infantry  will  be- 
come mad  for  plunder,  and  when  scattered  through  the  sub- 
urbs, will  be  easily  cut  to  pieces  by  the  enemy."  He  also 
refused  his  assent  to  the  pillage  of  Corbeil,  and  when  re- 
]>roached  for  his  fears  of  such  a  paltry  town,  he  replied,  "  I 
would  rather  be  laughed  at  by  my  friends  without  reason 
than  by  my  enemies  with  reason."  He  agreed  with  his  wise 
La  Noue,  that  the  "  best  defences  of  a  place  are  brave  men 
within  the  walls." 
28  * 


330  ADMIRAT,    COLIG>>"Y. 

Yet  the  army  pushed  on  t(j\varcl  Paris.  Catherine  was 
in  distress.  She  sent  her  ambassadors.  She  offered  to  make 
Conde  lieutenant-general,  to  grant  toleration — the  great 
edict  of  January  came  up  again — and  the  admiral  too 
should  have  his  reward.  But  her  net  was  spread  in  vain. 
Already  the  advance  was  sweeping  down  upon  the  capital, 
when  sixteen  thousand  men  rushed  to  the  walls  for  its  de- 
fence. Certain  suburbs  were  taken.*  The  citizens  were  in 
great  terror.  The  president,  Le  Maistre,  who  had  forced 
so  many  cruel  edicts  through  parliament,  could  not  flee 
from  his  sick  room,  and  died,  partly  of  fright.  "It  is  the 
hand  of  God,"  said  the  Huguenots.  "He  avenges  the 
death  of  Du  Bourg." 

Coligny  and  Andelot  were  drawn  into  other  parleys,  which 
came  to  nothing.  Eight  days  were  lost,  the  opportunity 
talked  away,  the  Guises  strengthened  by  three  thousand 
Spaniards,  and  the  Huguenots  weakened  by  discontent.  To 
shiver  in  the  winter,  and  think  of  not  being  at  home  on  the 
coming  Christmas,  did  not  impart  new  courage  to  the  sol- 
diers. Genlis,  who  had  visited  Coligny  at  Chatillon  when 
Charlotte  Laval  pleaded  for  her  religion  and  her  brethren, 
played  the  traitor  and  went  over  to  the  Triumvirate.  The 
first  day  he  was  caressed,  the  second  laughed  at,  and  the 
third  was  so  despised  that  he  sought  repentance.  "  We 
must  stratcgize,"  said  Coligny.  "The  traitor  will  reveal 
all  our  plans."  We  imagine  him  singing  that  night  at  the 
service  in  his  tent,  the  forty-first  Psalm  of  David  : 

Yea,  now  mine  own  familiar  friend, 

Who  oft  did  eat  my  bread. 
And  had  my  trust,  hath  lifted  up 

Ilirt  heel  against  my  head. 

*  "The  prince  rested  in  the  environs  of  Paris,  the  admiral  at  Ar- 
cuel,  Prince  Poreian  at  Gentiily,  Genlis  at  Montronge,  the  Germans 
at  Cachan,  and  the  infantry  near  Vaurigard." — Mezeray,  tome  x.  187. 


TllltOUCII     \SAK     lO    I'KACi:.  o31 

"Condc'  true  to  hi.s  l;iilli  uml  false  to  France,"  says  Fn)U(le, 
"  fell  back  from  Paris,  closely  followed  by  Guise,  the  con- 
stable and  St.  Andre,  intending  to  retire  to  the  coast  of 
Normandy,  where  the  English  army  would  take  the  field 
with  him."  They  struck  teut  at  Dreux,  amid  the  for- 
ests, where  once  the  Druids  worshipped,*  and  left  their 
name  behind.  "  Here  they  will  light  us,"  said  the 
prince. 

"Not  to-morrow,"  said  the  a(hiiiral.  "That  shrewd 
(|ueen  will  cause  them  to  dally.  Expect  more  talk  about 
liberty  of  conscience  to  Protectants." 

Beza  relates  "  two  things  that  occurred,  which  seemed  as 
if  sent  from  God,  as  presages  of  what  was  approaching." 
The  first  was,  that  when  the  prince  was  fording  a  small 
stream,  ou  the  way  to  Dreux,  an  aged  woman  ran  out  from 
among  the  peasants  gathered  to  see  him  go  by,  flung  her- 
self into  the  waters,  laid  hold  of  his  boot,  and  said,  "  Go  on, 
sir  prince  ;  you  will  suffer  much,  but  God  will  be  with  you." 
Being  pleased  with  her  devotion,  he  replied,  "  My  mother, 
l)ray  to  God  for  me." 

The  other  was  more  striking,  and  reveals  much  of  the 
8i)irit  of  the  age.  In  the  evening  the  prince  took  his  bed 
just  after  his  chaplain  had  read  prayers  to  the  company. 
The  chaplain  seems  to  have  been  Beza,  to  whom  Conde 
said,  "  To-morrow,  if  I  am  not  much  mistaken,  we  shall  have 
battle,  whatever  the  admiral  may  think.  I  know  one  ought 
not  to  give  faith  to  his  dreams,  yet  I  must  tell  you  what  I 
dreamed  last  night.  I  thought  that  I  had  engaged  in  three 
battles,  and  finally  gained  the  victory,  seeing  my  three 
enemies  dead.  But  1  myself  was  also  mortally  wounded. 
So,  having  laid  their  three  corpses  one  upon  another,  I  placed 
myself  above  them  and  yielded  up  my  spirit."  Beza  adds, 
"Strange  to  say,  the  dream  seemed  to  be  confirmed  by  the 
*  Vita  Coliiiii. 


332  ADMIRAI.    COLIGNY. 

final  result."  Hundreds  of  such  presentiments  fail,  and 
then  they  arc  not  noticed. 

Beza  laments  the  fatal  security  of  the  Huguenots,  which 
allowed  the  constable  to  occupy  the  villages,  and  he  says, 
"  God,  wishing  to  discomfit  them  one  by  the  other,  and  not 
to  exterminate  either  arm}',  seems  to  have  deprived  the 
great  captains  on  both  sides  of  common  understanding." 
He  also  regrets  that  battle  was  forced  on  the  Huguenots 
"  before  they  had  oifered  private  or  public  prayers,  or  had 
time  to  put  on  their  armour."* 

Guise  displayed  his  remarkable  genius  as  a  warrior.  He 
learned  that  the  Huguenots  were  camped  amid  trees  and 
brushwood,  which  would  be  a  great  hindrance  to  the  splen- 
did cavalry  of  the  admiral.  On  the  night  of  the  eighteenth 
of  December  he  crossed  the  little  Eure,  and  was  ready  to 
hail  the  dawn  with  all  the  thunders  of  his  artillery.  He 
heard  mass,  posted  his  men  among  the  copsewood  and 
hedges,  with  the  river  in  his  rear.  From  dawn  until  noon 
the  armies  gazed  at  each  other  iu  solemn  stillness.  Each 
man  thought  within  himself  that  he  had  relatives  and 
former  comrades  before  him.  Conde  saw  no  retreat,  no  way 
to  refuse  battle.  When  the  attack  was  begun  by  the  con- 
stable, he  was  resisted  "marvellously  well"  by  his  nephew, 
the  admiral,  at  the  head  of  the  advance.  For  about  five 
hours  the  slaughter  raged.  Coligny  pushed  hard  upon  his 
uncle,  who  had  taught  him  the  art  of  war,  and  who  now 
imagined  that  a  single  charge  would  finish  the  whole  busi- 
ness with  the  poor  Huguenoterie.  But  Coligny  bore  upon 
him  with  four  thousand  horse  of  the  old  army  of  Italy. 
First  a  clash,  then  confusion,  the  Protestant  cavalry  wield- 

*  A  little  later  Beza  acted  the  hero,  whatever  may  be  said  of  liia 
conduct  as  a  minister  of  the  gospel.  "In  the  battle  he  stoutly  ha- 
rangued the  soldiers,  and  took  his  place  in  the  front  ranks,  as  if  he 
had  been  one  of  the  standard-bearers." — Calvin's  Letters,  dcxxxvii. 


THROUGH    WAU   TO    PEACE.  33o 

ing  their  laiR'es,  hoi'ftcs  fUlling,  men  3'elling  the  breatli  out 
of  them,  and  Coligny  riding  tlirough  and  through  their 
ranks,  paying  his  price  for  liberty  of  conscience  toward 
the  (jod  wliom  lie  .served.  He  thus  shattered  the  very  centre 
of  the  oj)po.sing  column. 

His  uncle  had  dared  too  much  when  he  threw  himself 
and  his  men  into  the  only  sjjot  where  a  horse  could  freely 
gallop.  ^Mingling  oatiis  and  j)rayers,  as  his  habit  was,  the 
aged  warrior  cried  aloud  to  his  troops  when  their  ranks 
were  breaking.  Beaten  from  his  horse,  he  quickly  sjjrang 
back  into  the  saddle ;  the  German  horsemen  gathered 
around  ]\im ;  a  bullet  shattered  his  jaw;  when  almost 
choking  with  blood,  he  gave  up  his  sword,  and  the  great 
constable  of  France  was  lead  to  the  rear  a  prisoner. 

Half  such  skill  and  valour  on  the  part  of  the  other  Hu- 
guenot forces  might  have  ended  the  war,  given  Coude  the 
place  over  Guise  at  the  throne,  and  won  for  the  Protest- 
ants the  toleration  they  sought.  Coligny's  men  shouted, 
"  Victory,"  and  imagined  the  day  was  theirs.  But  as  he  fixed 
his  eye  on  the  reserved  battalions  under  Guise  and  St.  Andre, 
all  ready  to  sweep  down  upon  the  ground  which  Montmo- 
rency had  left  vacant,  he  said,  "  We  deceive  ourselves;  we 
shall  soon  see  that  great  cloud  bursting  upon  us."  Onward 
came  the  reserves.  The  Germans,  unwilling  to  lose  the 
chance  of  rifling  the  pockets  of  the  wounded  and  stripping 
the  dead,  gave  a  feeble  front  to  the  foe,  and  at  the  first  stroke 
of  the  storm  they  turned  and  fled,  without  a  shot  or  a  cut 
ol"  the  sabre.  In  vain  had  C'oligny  said,  "  He  who  holds 
his  troops  together  to  the  last  carries  the  day." 

Andelot  had  risen  from  his  couch,  walked  forth  in  his 
gown,  trembling  with  cold,  ague  and  burning  with  hot 
fever,  to  arrest  the  sad  fall  of  his  German  reiters,  wlio 
proved  "  that  for  fifty  years  such  cowards  had  never  en- 
tered France."      In  vain  was  the  rallying-cry  of  the  sick 


334  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

hero,  now  mounted  upon  his  horse;  these  hirelings  threw 
away  their  arms  and  were  chased  from  the  field. 

"  We  have  the  old  leader ;  the  followers  will  soon  be 
ours,"  thought  the  Prince  of  Conde  soon  after  the  capture 
of  Montmorency.  Again  he  was  saying,  "  The  gains  of  one 
hour  will  be  lost  the  next,"  for  he  saw  the  tide  turning,  re- 
ceived wounds,  had  a  horse  shot  under  him,  put  his  foot  in 
the  stirrup  to  mount  another,  when  young  Henry  Montmo- 
rency came  up  with  the  word  "Surrender!"  The  son  was 
seeking  reprisals  for  the  capture  of  his  father  and  for  the 
death  of  a  younger  brother.  Conde  gave  up  his  sword,  and 
he  too  was  a  prisoner. 

It  was  Coligny,  supported  by  a  brave  nobility,  who 
saved  the  Huguenot  army  from  annihilation.  Loudly  had 
he  cried  to  his  men,  "Think  more  of  your  religion  than  of 
your  lives,"  and  some  of  them  had  shouted  back  the  words 
on  Conde's  standards,  "  It  is  sweet  to  die  for  Christ  and  our 
country."  Thrice  they  charged  ;  thrice  they  were  resisted, 
like  waves  by  the  moveless  rock.  Their  pikes  were  found 
to  be  bent,  their  swords  twisted,  their  pistols  choked,  so 
hard  had  been  the  service  of  that  desperate  day.  It  w'as 
Coligny's  old  praying  regiment,  fighting  in  God's  name.  In 
one  of  the  attacks  St.  Andr6  fell,  and  gave  up  his  sword  to 
Coligny.  But  a  wretch  who  had  been  once  defrauded  by 
the  prisoner  rode  up  and  shot  him  through  the  head,  say- 
ing, "Die,  traitor — die  by  the  hand  of  one  whom  yon  have 
despoiled."  The  assassin  fled,  for  he  knew  that  Coligny 
would  punish  the  crime. 

The  chief  object  now  aimed  at  by  the  enemy  was  the  life 
of  Coligny.  Many  a  venturous  man  had  rushed  forward 
to  slay  him  or  perish  ;  he  only  perished.  The  hidden 
hand  of  Jehovah  was  upon  the  general  who  most  of  all 
feared  him.  One  knight,  dressed  in  Guise's  armour,  and 
riding   his   fine    charger,   called    on    Coligny   to   advance 


TiiRonai  WAi:  to  im:.u-i:.  335 

and  fij^ht  him.  But  such  a  chiillciige  was  in  vain.  He 
then  dashed  into  the  ranks  and  was  killed.  So  closely  did 
this  man  resemble  Guise  that  it  was  reported  he  was  dead. 

"  Night  came  at  a  haj)py  hour  for  the  Huguenots,"  says 
INIezeray ;  perhaps  the  hour  was  quite  as  happy  for  the 
other  army.  Each  side  admitted  no  defeat ;  each  had  lost 
about  the  same  number  of  men;  of  thirty  thousand,  eight 
thousand  lay  dead  on  the  field.  Unwillingly,  slowly,  sadly, 
Coligny  retired  with  his  troops,  his  own  obedient  soldiers  in 
good  order  and  himself  great  in  adversity.  What  were 
his  prayers  through  all  that  night  for  the  wounded  and 
dying,  as  the  white  coats  and  red  coats  touched  each  other 
on  the  field  of  uncomforted  death  ! 

Coligny  did  not  regard  the  Protestants  as  conquered.  He 
wrote  to  the  queen  of  England,  "  Our  infantry  has  suf- 
fered a  defeat  without  fighting,  but  our  cavalry,  which 
alone  fought  the  battle,  is  undamaged,  and  wishes  for  noth- 
ing more  ardently  than  to  meet  once  more,  without  delay, 
the  enemies  of  God  and  of  the  kingdom.  These  will  de- 
liberate whether  to  attack  us,  or  to  await  an  attack  frojn 
our  side."* 

In  Paris  there  were,  at  first,  no  rejoicings  as  of  victors. 
The  queen  saw  that  her  losses  were  great.  One  of  the  Tri- 
umvirs was  slain,  another  was  a  prisoner,  and  now  the 
third,  the  Duke  of  Guise,  would  reign  unchecked  and  alone. 
In  her  heartless  way  she  coolly  said  of  the  result,  "  Well, 
then,  we  must  pray  to  God  in  French" — alluding  to  the 
popular  language  of  the  Protestant  worship.  "  But  what 
of  it?     It  will  be  but  a  mass  the  less!"     A  little  later  the 

*  One  story  is  tliat  wlieii  his  friends  nrged  Gnise  to  pnrsue  Coligny, 
he  replied,  "  I  have  a  worse  beast  to  fij^ht  tlian  all  the  Ilnguenots  |>iit 
together."  lie  meant  Catherine.  Coligny  sent  a  report  of  tlie  battle 
to  Calvin,  of  whieh  Letter  dcxx.wii.  is  probably  a  summary.  lie 
seems  to  liuve  written  the  aecounl  in  Mem.  de  Conde. 


336  ADMIRAL    COI.IGNY. 

court  reckoned  upon  a  victory,  and  the  streets  and  churches 
■were  filled  with  joy  and  thanksgiving. 

The  Prince  of  Conde  was  led  to  the  tent  of  the  Duke  of 
Guise,  One  would  have  thought  they  were  most  chival- 
rous cousins.  They  seemed  to  forget  that  they  had  chal- 
lenged each  other  to  duels  and  vented  their  wrath  by 
swearing  to  take  revenge  on  the  first  occasion.  The  prince 
was  little  seen,  says  the  Abbe  Brantome;  "  Guise  forbade 
the  many  who  called  from  seeing  him,  for  people  in  afflic- 
tion do  not  like  visitations.  ...  I  had,  however,  interest 
enough  to  get  in,  and  beheld  him  near  the  fire,  making 
great  demonstrations  of  grief"  The  two  rivals  and 
foes  ate  their  supper  together,  and,  "  beds  being  scarce," 
they  shared  the  same  couch,  the  duke  "sleeping  as  soundly 
as  if  nothing  had  happened,"  and  the  prince  never  closing 
his  eyes.  The  story  is  not  quite  well  enough  founded  to 
carry  conviction  to  modern  rivals,  who  may  be  in  need  of 
such  an  example. 

"Of  all  the  battles  fought  in  France  daring  the  civil 
wars,"  wrote  La  Noue,  who  by  turns  used  sword  and  pen 
in  his  peculiar  way,  "  none  is  more  memorable  than  that  of 
Dreux,  whether  we  consider  the  experienced  chiefs  then 
present,  or  the  obstinacy  with  which  the  field  was  disputed. 
In  every  point  of  view  it  is  an  accident  worthy  of  all  lamen- 
tation, on  account  of  the  blood  of  more  than  five  hundred 
gentlemen  which  bathed  the  bosom  of  their  common  mo- 
ther." Among  the  slain  was  the  aged  La  Brosse,  who 
struck  the  first  blow  in  the  massacre  of  Vassy.  Guise  hoped 
to  make  him  grand  marshal  of  France.  In  the  cold  morn- 
ing, before  the  battle.  La  Brosse  said,  "  I  fancy  I  shall  be 
killed  to-day,  and,  indeed,  I  have  lived  too  long,  and  it  is  a 
shame  for  me  to  bear  a  lance  and  imbrue  it  in  blood,  when 
I  should  be  at  home  begging  of  God  to  forgive  the  sins  of 
my  youth."     Why  not  do  that  on  the  field?     Perhaps  he 


Til  ROUGH    WAR    TO    PEACE.  337 

thought  a  priest  and  a  mass  were  necessary  to  the  obtain- 
ing of  a  pardon,  or  lie  spoke  only  in  the  levity  of  his  wit. 

"  If  this  battle  had  been  lost,"  was  one  of  the  connnents 
of  the  warrior  Montluc,  "I  think  it  would  have  been  all 
over  with  France.  Both  state  and  religion  would  have 
been  changed,  for  they  would  have  done  what  they  willed 
with  the  young  king." 

In  distant  quarters  there  was  a  Te  Deiini  for  the  result. 
The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  was  not  at  the  Council  of  Trent, 
and  Frao  Paulo  Sarpi  tells  that  "the  fathers  thanked  God 
for  an  event  which  was  reported  to  theui  as  a  victory 
(although  it  did  not  merit  the  name),  and  they  made  a  pro- 
cession, chanted  a  mass  and  listened  to  a  sermon  from 
Beaucaire,  who  ascribed  all  the  disorders  in  France  to 
Luther,  and  all  the  successes  of  the  last  wars  to  the  Duke 
of  Guise."  The  journalist  Verdun  puts  it  a  little  differ- 
ently :  "  There  was  a  solemn  procession  for  peace  in  the 
French  kingdom,  and  for  the  extirpation  of  heresy  therein," 
and  the  news  from  Dreux  coming  the  same  day,  "  they 
went  to  the  great  church,  giving  thanks  to  God  in  the  chant 
Te  Deum."  *  The  whole  Roman  Church  was  doing  its  worst 
to  defeat  French  Protestantism. 

More  touching  is  the  account  of  the  joy  and  sadness  felt 
by  Mary  of  Scots.  Still  warmly  attached  to  her  uncles, 
she  rejoiced  in  the  successes  of  Guise  at  Rouen  and  Dreux, 
but  she  was  shocked  with  the  furious  character  of  the  war. 
It  was  her  grief  to  see  the  country  so  dear  to  her,  the  land 
of  her  childhood  and  happiest  days,  so  flooded  with  the 
blood  of  her  people,  its  towns  stormed  and  razed,  and  its 
brave  nobility  clashing  in  mortal  strife.  She  heard  the 
tidings  with  tears,  and  begged  for  peace. f 

What  was  the  next  political  move  of  the  Duke  of  Guise, 

*  Sarpi.  Hist.  Concil.  de  Trent. — Pallavicino. 
t  Tytler,  Hist.  Scot.  \-i.  27.=). 
Vol.  I.— 29 


338  ADMIRAL   COLIG^'Y. 

the  only  one  of  the  Triumvirate  left  to  manage  the  govern- 
ment? He  at  once  wrote  to  the  king  of  "the  happy  vic- 
tory he  had  achieved  over  his  rebel  subjects,"  and  huml)ly 
ordered  him  to  send  him  papers  in  blank,  that  he  might  fill 
them  up  with  the  names  of  certain  officers,  especially  that 
of  a  successor  to  St.  Andre  in  the  grand  marshalship.  If 
the  king  should  refuse,  "  he  would  disgust  certain  most  faith- 
ful servants,  throw  cold  water  on  that  courage  which  is 
ready  to  hazard  life,  and  give  men  just  cause  to  forsake 
him  and  find  a  party  somewhere  else ! "     What  dictation  ! 

The  king  read  the  letter,  and  remarked  in  his  dawning 
wisdom,  "  See  whether  this  Duke  of  Guise  plays  the  king 
or  not.  You  would  swear  the  army  were  his  own,  and  the 
victory  due  solely  to  his  hand.  No  mention  of  God !  and 
he  tells  me  that  if  I  do  not  grant  his  demand,  he  will  quit 
my  service  and  join  my  enemies  ! "  The  royal  Charles  gave 
the  duke  to  understand  that  he  had  already  given  the  baton 
of  marshal  to  Vielleville,  a  moderate  man,  and  would  fill 
other  vacancies  at  pleasure.  But  Guise  was  again  made 
lieutenant-general,  and  he  was  as  happy  as  Haman  in  the 
first  hours  of  his  promotion.  The  Mordecai  was  Coligny. 
An  Esther  was  not  to  be  found. 

The  Prince  of  Conde  was  lost  for  a  time ;  the  array  was 
saved,  and  Coligny  was  thinking  of  strategies  and  of  dis- 
cipline. While  Conde  was  nervous  from  his  dream,  he  had 
named  Coligny  as  his  successor,  and  the  Huguenots  will- 
ingly elected  the  admiral  as  their  chief  during  the  prince's 
captivity.  He  said  to  Andelot,  "  You  go  to  Orleans.  Draw 
thither  the  Duke  of  Guise,  and  let  him  waste  his  time  and 
means  battering  at  the  walls." 

"  But  these  Hessians ! "  said  Andelot.  "  They  are  clamor- 
ous for  their  pay.  What  the  churches  are  sending  us  will 
not  satisfy  them.  They  will  desert  to  the  enemy  or  run 
riot  over  the  whole  land." 


TIIIJOIGII    WAR    TO    PKACK.  339 

"I  will  take  the  worst  of  tliom,  and  give  them  such  a 
schooling  as  they  never  had,  and  that  on  a  rapid  march, 
over  rough  roads.  I  shall  sweep  up  through  Normandy,  and 
at  Havre  get  the  money  promised  by  Elizabeth,  or  drive 
her  guards  into  the  sea." 

Elizabeth's  conduct  had  been  provoking.  The  admiral 
had  lost  Throgmorton  at  Dreux ;  Guise  had  him  as  a 
])risoner,  and  was  saying  to  him  very  soothingly,  "  Let  your 
queen  withdraw  her  force  from  Havre,  and  Calais  shall  be 
given  up  to  her."  His  reservation  was,  "I  shall  cheat  her 
of  that,  or  win  it  back."  She  heard  her  Commons  "  resolve 
to  yield  their  whole  power  in  goods  and  bodies  to  recover 
Calais."  She  did  not  trust  Conde,  and  had  but  a  half  trust 
in  Coligny.  She  wrote  to  her  new  ambassador.  Smith, 
"  You  need  not  hint  to  the  admiral  that  there  is  any  slack- 
ness on  my  part ;  but  I  would  be  glad  if  some  indirect 
means  could  be  devised  to  settle  the  religious  difficulties, 
even  if  toleration  be  not  established  so  universally  as  the 
admiral  desires ;  but  England  must  have  Calais,  and  the 
money  loaned  to  Conde  must  be  repaid." 

Such  was  the  hollow  dealing  of  Elizabeth.  Behind  a 
noble  cause  she  sought  a  private  object.  The  result  was, 
that  "  six  thousand  Englishmen  paid  with  their  lives  for 
this  trifling  with  Chatillon,  while  the  coveted  Calais  was 
forfeited  for  ever.  The  Huguenots  obtained  the  half  tolera- 
tion which  she  desired  for  them  ;  and  they  found  the  value 
of  it  on  the  day  of  St.  Bartholomew."* 

But  we  anticipate.  The  fact  was  already  overshadowing 
the  mind  of  Coligny  and  causing  fear.  It  was  a  brave 
thing  to  lead  those  obstreperous  German  raiders  far  uti'  to 
Havre,  and  there  demand  aid  from  across  the  howling 
Channel. 

The  admiral  began  his  march  the  first  of  February,  and 
*  Fronde,  liipt.  England,  vii.  497. 


340  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

in  six  (lays  was  fifty  leagues  distant.  At  Havre  no  men, 
no  money  were  waiting.  The  Hessians,  "ignorant  of  what 
quarter  of  the  world  they  were  in,"  looked  toward  England 
and  gx'owled  in  unison  with  the  angry  sea.  They  raved, 
they  threatened,  they  almost  mutinied.  Coligny  stood 
amid  the  wikl  tumult,  powerful  in  his  calmness.  "  See 
that ! "  said  he,  pointing  to  the  wintry  waves,  as  his  plea 
for  England's  delay.  They  retired ;  they  began  to  hold 
secret  meetings ;  they  decided  to  abandon  his  standards. 
By  raiding  across  France  they  might  get  home  with  large 
spoils.  Suddenly  the  winds  began  to  cease,  as  if  the  Mighty 
One  of  Galilee  were  walking  on  the  waves.  A  fleet  was 
seen ;  Coligny  thanked  God  for  the  timely  appearance. 
English  aid  was  never  more  opportune.  The  reiters 
cheei'ed  the  admiral,  and  received  from  him  a  part  of  their 
pay. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  vision  of  the  heavenly  Hand.  The 
Normans  still  remembered  their  advocate.  Deputies  ar- 
rived from  Caen,  a  city  second  to  Rouen  in  wealth,  entreat- 
ing him  to  take  them  under  his  protection.  It  was  occupied 
by  the  Duke  of  Elboeuf,  brother  of  Guise.  His  conduct 
made  him  the  detestation  of  the  citizens.  But  at  this  mo- 
ment Coligny  saw  a  frowning  providence.  He  learned  that 
the  Duke  of  Guise  was  preparing  to  make  a  desperate  as- 
sault upon  Orleans.  "  I  will  draw  away  some  of  his  troops 
by  attacking  Caen,"  said  the  admiral.  He  marched  thither. 
The  gates  were  opened  to  receive  him.  The  city  was  full 
of  the  enemy's  spoils.  He  again  paid  his  Hessians,  got 
other  supplies  and  hastened  toward  Orleans.  Between 
the  two  armies,  "Normandy  was  well  ravaged." 

Meanwliile,  the  Duke  of  Guise  had  marched  to  Orleans 
and  begun  the  siege,  saying,  "  Once  take  the  burrow  where 
the  foxes  have  retreated,  and  we  will  chase  them  all  over 
France."     Difficulties  were  pointed  out  to  this  hunter  of 


THROUGH    WAR   TO    PEACE.  341 

inen.  With  liis  usual  spirit  of  (Ictorniination  he  replied, 
Avith  an  oath  (for  he  was  a  great  swearer),  "Since  tlie  sun 
finds  entrance  into  Orleans,  I  too  will  enter  it."  Vain 
boast!  He  forgot  the  God  who  was  causing  his  sun  to 
shine  upon  the  beleaguered  Huguenots  in  the  middle  of 
February.  He  wrote  to  the  queen,  "  AVhen  I  enter  I  will 
root  out  the  entire  seed  of  Huguenotisni."* 

Andelot  was  almost  overcome.  One  gate  was  forced  by 
Guise.  An  alarm  ran  through  the  city.  Rising  from  his 
sick  bed,  trembling  still  with  ague,  Andelot  cried  out,  "Let 
the  nobility  follow  me.  "We  must  drive  out  the  enemy  or 
die.  They  can  only  advance  ten  men  at  once,  but  a  hun- 
dred of  ours  may  resist  a  thousand  of  theirs.  Courage; 
forward r  Then  ten  men  put  a  thousand  to  flight.  Guise 
fell  back,  to  fight  no  more. 

A  young  man  had  come  to  Coligny,  named  Jean  Poltrot 
de  Mure,  recommended  by  Soubise,  and  assuming  to  be  in 
distress  because  the  Guises  were  usurping  all  the  i)ower 
over  France.  He  put  on  the  face  of  a  devout  Huguenot. 
He  said  that  if  he  were  so  fortunate  as  to  be  fighting  against 
the  Duke  of  Guise,  he  would  single  him  out  and  try  his 
courage  against  him.  This  seems  to  have  been  all  that  ho 
then  said  to  Coligny  ;  })erhaps  he  then  had  no  intention  to 
assassinate  the  chief  enemy.f  Coligny  seems  to  have  given 
him  money  to  buy  a  horse,  and  allowed  him  to  act  as  a  spy. 
Poltrot  then  wrought  himself  into  the  good  graces  of  the 
duke,  pretended  to  be  a  new  convert  "to  the  old  religion," 
dined  with  him,  and,  on  the  evening  before  the  great  as- 
sault  was  to  be  made,  shot   him  with  three  balls   in   the 

*  "  Tlie  (liiko  will  in  no  wise  accord  to  peace  till  the  Protestants  l)e 
utterly  extcrmiiiatcd." — Tltrofjinnrton. 

f  Had  he  boasted  openly  that  he  would  assassinate  Guise,  it  nnist 
have  become  known,  for  his  confidant  Brion  acted  the  traitor  and 
joined  the  diike  after  the  assumed  boast. 

2  a » 


342  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

shoulder,  "  It  was  to  be  expected,"  said  the  duke ;  "  but  I 
thmk  it  will  be  nothing." 

The  duke  lived  a  few  days,  denied  that  he  had  premedi- 
tated the  massacre  of  Vassy,  or  else  prayed  that  God  would 
forgive  all  his  faults  "excepting  the  aflair  of  Vassy,"  ad- 
vised the  queen  to  make  peace,  and  probably  alluded  to 
Coligny  when  he  said,  "  And  thou,  too,  I  forgive,  who  art 
the  author  of  this  ;"  if  indeed  he  said  any  such  thing.*  He 
died  greatly  regretted  by  the  extreme  Roman  party. 

Poltrot  was  speedily  arrested.  His  only  hope  of  escap- 
ing a  horrible  death  was  by  fixing  his  crime  upon  others. f 
When  before  his  judges  at  Paris,  and  tortured  to  wring 
from  him  just  what  was  wanted,  he  accused  Coligny,  Beza, 
La  Rochefoucauld,  Soubise  and  two  others  of  lioing  his 
accomplices,  but  also  claimed  that  he  acted  by  a  divine  in- 
spiration. He  was  a  fanatic.  This  was  too  sweeping  a 
charge  to  be  plausible.  He  afterward  varied  his  confes- 
sions, until  Coligny  was  left  to  bear  the  full  burden.  Even 
in  this  he  had  no  straightforward  story.  "  I  spoke  to  him 
myself,"  says  Brantome,  who  was  a  warm  friend  of  the 
Guises.  "As  to  the  admiral,  he  varied  and  contradicted 
himself  very  much  in  his  examination  when  tortured,  and 
at  his  death."  Before  the  president,  De  Thou,  he  retracted 
the  charges,  but  re-uttered  them  when  dying  a  horrible 
death.  And  still  his  statements  were  published  and  sent 
abroad.     All  Europe  was  deeply  interested  in  the  case. 

What  if  Poltrot  had  stoutly  clung  to  one  story  and  made 
it  appear  consistent  with  itself?  Even  then  the  charge 
would  rest  solely  upon  the  word  of  an  assassin.     One  who 

*  At  most  it  could  be  a  merely  vague  suspicion,  unworthy  of  notice 
except  as  softening  the  tem})cr  of  the  duke. 

f  It  was  generally  supposed  at  the  time  that  Poltrot  had  been 
promised  a  pardon,  if  his  instigator  could  be  brought  to  justice. — 
Peran,  Vie  de  Coligny. 


THUOrOli    WAU    TO    PEACE.  343 

had  mimlcrcd  another  couhl  readily  lie  about  it,  when  he 
knew  tliat  the  whole  Papal  party  was  anxious  to  fix  the 
stigma  upon  the  great  leader  of  the  Huguenots.  The  "cir- 
cumstantial evidence"  amounts  to  nothing  against  him,  or 
if  it  have  any  force  it  lies  harder  against  Catherine  than 
Coligny.  She  is  reported  to  have  said  to  Tavannes,  "The 
Guises  wished  to  make  themselves  kings,  but  I  took  good 
care  of  them  before  Orleans."  The  susj)icion  is  rejected, 
l)ut  she  had  an  interest  in  getting  rid  of  the  duke.  A  mur- 
derer alone  is  the  accuser.  A  man  who.se  whole  life  proves 
the  high  tone  of  his  principles  is  the  accused.  In  history 
the  two  men  confront  each  other,  and  as  the  word  of  each 
one  is  taken  the  verdict  is  rendered.  Surely  Coligny  ought 
to  be  heard,  inasmuch  as  the  statements  are  yet  running  in 
the  histories  that  "  Chatillon  never  wholly  convinced  the 
world  of  his  innocence,  for  Poltrot  himself  accused  him 
while  the  horses  were  tearing  him  in  pieces;"  and  that 
"  Coligny  assented,  if  he  did  not  consent  to  the  crime.  He 
was  not  unwilling  to  profit  by  it,  though  he  would  do  noth- 
ing to  further  it."* 

Two  days  after  Coligny  had  seen  "an  interrogatory  made 
by  one  named  Jean  do  Poltrot,"  he  sent  to  Catherine  an 
earnest  letter,  and  a  full  response  to  all  the  points  taken  by 
the  account.f  Scarcely  travelling  out  of  his  own  record, 
we  shall  notice  only  a  few  particulars: 

1.  The  demand  for  a  hearing.  Coligny  asked  for  a  safe- 
conduct,  saying,  "  As  the  thing  I  should  most  dread  in  the 
world  would  be  the  execution  of  Poltrot  before  the  truth  is 
discovered,  I  humbly  entreat  your  majesty  that  he  shall  be 
safe!}'  kept Once  more  I  humbly  cntveat  that  Pol- 
trot may  be  well  and  carefully  guarded  to  prove  the  truth, 

*  Fronde,  Hist.  Eng.  vii.  p.  507  ;  White.  Mas.  Si.  Barth.  228,  Lon- 
ilon  edition. 

t  Documents  in  Mem.  de  Cond^. 


344  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

whatever  it  may  be.  For  if  he  be  carried  to  Paris,  I  should 
fear  that  those  of  the  parliament*  would  have  him  executed, 
and  thus  leave  me  to  lie  under  this  calumny  and  impos- 
ture." Innocence  was  not  afraid  of  justice.  If  the  court 
were  anxious  for  the  truth,  or  confident  that  Coligny  could 
not  overthrow  Poltrot's  contradictory  statements,  why  not 
grant  so  reasonable  a  demand  ?  Why  hasten  to  put  the 
accusing  witness  out  of  the  way? 

2.  The  connection  with  Poltrot.  The  assassin  declared 
that  he  went  to  Orleans  in  July;  Coligny  affirms  that  he 
never  saw  or  heard  of  him  until  the  January  following,  and 
that  Poltrot  was  engaged  as  a  spy,  or  a  messenger  to  An- 
delot.  As  to  any  intimacy,  it  was  false.  Tlie  pretended 
conferences  were  fabulous.  The  accuser  betrayed  his  want 
of  familiarity  with  Huguenot  affairs  by  constantly  using 
the  terra  Seigneur  de  ChatUlon,  whereas  the  uniform  title 
was  Monsieur  VAmiral. 

3.  The  warnings  to  the  Guises.  As  to  assassinations, 
"  I  have  always  prevented  such  enterprises  by  every  means 
in  my  power.  Hence  I  have  often  had  communication 
with  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  Madame  de  Guise  and  your 
majesty,  who  may  remember  how  strongly  I  have  opposed 
them."  Brantome  asserts  that  "  the  admiral  had  sent 
word  to  Guise  some  days  before  to  take  care  of  himself,  for 
there  was  a  man  hired  to  murder  him."  If  this  latter 
statement  were  true,  who  hired  him  ?  Certainly  not  Co- 
ligny, or  he  would  not  give  the  information.  If  he  ever 
gave  it,  he  was  not  an  accomplice.     It  should  be  noted  that 

*  A  strong  effort  had  been  made  by  the  Guises  some  months  before 
to  have  Coligny  condemned  as  a  rebel.  Calvin  writes  :  "  The  coun- 
cillors who  refused  to  condemn  the  admiral  and  his  brother  Andelot 
have  been  thrown  into  prison."  Letter  dcxxxvi.,  27  Dec,  1562.  This 
desire  to  crush  the  Chatillons  would  lead  them  to  make  their  own  use 
of  Poltrot. 


THROUGH    WAIi    TO    PKAri:.  345 

assassination  was  not  then  held  in  such  disgrace  as  it  is  now. 
It  was  a  part  of  warfare  among  the  Southern  nations  to 
repay  violent  deeds  in  kind.  That  Coligny  ever  acted  on 
this  bad  principle  is  not  proved,  but  we  can  see  how  a 
fanatic,  hearing  constantly  of"  the  butcher  of  Vassy,"  might 
])ersuade  himself  to  take  the  life  of  Guise.  The  soldiers 
might  carelessly  speak  of  such  a  deed  without  any  malicious 
intentions. 

4.  Certain  concessions  of  the  admii'al.  lie  admitted  that 
after  the  Vassy  affair  he  heard  some  one  say  that  he  would 
kill  the  duke ;  and  that  when  he  last  met  Poltrot  this  mar 
talked  about  how  easy  it  would  be  to  kill  him,  but  Coligny 
"  looked  upon  it  as  mere  idle  talk" — (he  ridiculed  it,  says 
De  Serres) — "yet  during  the  last  five  or  six  months,  I 
have  no  longer  contested  the  matter  against  those  who  have 
showed  such  a  will,*  and  that  because  I  had  information 
that  certain  persons,  whom  I  will  name  in  fit  time,t  had 
been  practiced  upon  to  kill  me,  as  your  majesty  may  re- 
member I  told  her.  .  .  ."  This  admission  was  so  honest 
that  no  accomplice  would  have  made  it.  Beza  says  that 
many  of  the  admiral's  friends  were  not  pleased,  for  his 
enemies  might  infer  too  much  from  it,  but  he  replied  that 
he  wished  to  give  the  whole  truth,  so  that  if  he  were  con- 
fronted nothing  should  be  unconfessed  to  his  disadvantage, 
lie  would  be  frank,  whatever  the  consequences.  He  claims 
a  neutrality  in  the  matter  charged,  or  admits  that  he  was 
not  active  in  preventing  the  destruction  of  one  who  sought 
his  own  life.  But  he  knew  of  no  definite  plot,  nor  wilful 
assassin.     He  gave  no  assent,  no  permission;  he  simply  did 

*  "  J'ay  estd  contrariant  tl  cela,  reserve  cinq  oii  six  mois  en  ya,  que 
je  n'ay  pas  fort  conteste  contre  ceiix  qui  monstrolcnt  avolt  telle  vo- 
lante." — Admirars  Letter  to  Catherine. 

t  The  response  sliows  tliat  he  means  Guise  and  his  brother  the 
cardinal. 


346  ADMIRAL   COLIGXY. 

nothing  in  the  case  of  a  mere  possibility.  He  did  not  ex- 
pect such  a  crime.  This  concession  of  negativeness  is  the 
most  that  can  be  sustained  against  him.  In  an  age  more 
enlightened  than  his  we  must  regret  that  he  did  not  per- 
severe in  "  hindering  such  enterprises  by  every  means  in 
his  power."  The  very  fact  that  he  had  "  often  opposed 
them"  may  have  made  him  the  more  careless. 

5.  There  is  another  admission,  which  no  guilty  man 
would  be  forward  in  avowing :  "  Do  not  imagine,  however, 
that  what  I  say  proceeds  from  any  regret  occasioned  by  the 
death  of  Guise.  I  esteem  it  the  greatest  good  that  could 
have  come  to  the  kingdom,  to  the  Church  of  God,  and  par- 
ticularly to  myself  and  all  my  house.  If  it  so  please  your 
majesty,  it  shall  prove  the  means  of  securing  repose  to  this 
realm."  If  this  was  rejoicing  over  the  death  of  the  duke, 
Coligny  was  not  alone  in  it.  The  Huguenots  joined  in 
thanksgiving.  The  excellent  Cecil  of  England  "  was  very 
glad  of  the  duke's  hurt,  and  could  wish  his  soul  in  heaven." 
Even  Catherine  spoke  freely :  "  The  man  is  dead  whom  I 
hated  most  of  all  the  world."  Conde  remarked  that  a  great 
burden  was  removed,  and  she  replied,  "  If  the  kingdom  has 
been  relieved  of  one  burden,  ten  have  been  taken  off  my 
bosom."* 

6.  The  positive  denial  of  complicity :  "  I  again  declare 
that  it  will  be  found  [if  you  allow  me  to  confront  Poltrot] 
that  I  never  sought  out  this  man,  or  any  other  to  commit 
such  an  act.  ...  I  never  solicited,  or  instigated  any  one 
to  such  a  deed,  either  by  word,  money  or  promise."      The 

*  The  papists  never  lamented  with  more  display.  The  pope  or- 
dered a  splendid  funeral  ceremony.  At  Notre  Dame,  in  Paris,  a  dig- 
nitary extolled  the  duke,  saying  that  he  would  not  pray  for  him,  for  it 
was  an  insult  to  a  martyr  to  pray  for  his  soul.  He  would  reckon  him 
among  the  saint's,  only  out  of  respect  for  the  pope  who  had  not  can- 
onized him !     We  do  not  find  that  he  has  yet  been  canonized. 


TlIROUr.IT    WAR    TO    PEACE.  347 

solemn  word  ol'  sucli  a  man  must  weigh  down  the  variable 
oath  of  an  assassin.  Castelnau  says,  "  The  admiral  was 
always  willing  to  purge  himself,  and  he  called  it  a  villainous 
act."  The  Guises  were  pressing  the  charge  to  the  very  end 
of  his  life,  but  they  never  brought  forward  any  new  evi- 
dence. Coligny  offered  fresh  papers ;  we  shall  again  see 
the  result. 

Now  the  flact  that  Coligny  was  not  granted  a  hearing  in 
the  very  face  of  his  accuser;  the  fact  that  Poltrot  was  not 
released  upon  his  confession,  and  the  fact  that  he  was  hurried 
out  of  the  world  in  a  most  horrible  manner,  all  tend  to 
brand  his  statements  as  utterly  false.*  After  his  recanta- 
tion of  the  charges  before  De  Thou,  he  took  them  up  again 
when  tortured  and  questioned  in  his  dying  hour.  And  this 
might  be  expected  of  such  a  man  when  being  torn  with  hot 
pincers  and  pulled  limb  from  limb  by  four  horses.  As  a 
witness,  he  was  worthless ;  as  an  assassin,  he  endured  the 
iidiuman  penalty  of  that  age.  The  wife  of  M.  de  Thore 
Montmorency  was  one  of  the  ladies  at  the  execution,  seeing 
the  accuser  of  her  husband's  cousin  die.  So  great  was  the 
horror  that  she  died  upon  the  spot. 

The  Abbe  le  Labourer  says,  "It  is  utterly  false  that  the 
admiral,  or  any  chief  of  that  party,  had  any  hand  in  that 
conspiracy"  against  the  Duke  of  Guise.  Lacratelle  closes 
the  case  by  saying,  "If  the  previous  life  of  the  admiral  be 
an  answer  to  this  terrible  accusation,  what  he  afterward 
did  in  two  other  civil  wars  still  better  repels  the  charge. 
How  could  a  man,  capable  of  such  a  crime,  have  so  con- 
stantly abstained  from  the  fury  of  vengeance  and  reprisals 
which  appeared  lawful?"  The  candid  Abbe  Millot  says, 
"  Nothing  was  less  likely  than  this  accusation,  if  we  may 
judge  from  the  character  of  tliose  who  were  the  objects  of 

*  "Rrowning,  Hist.  IIiij;iU'ii<i(s,  siroiigly  argues  llio  case  for  the  ad- 
miral oil  the  more  ciroumstantiai  jrrounds. 


348  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

it.*  ....  As  hatred  strengthens  the  most  unjust  prejudices, 
Henry  of  Guise,  the  eldest  son  of  the  duke,  conceived  from 
this  moment  the  design  of  ruining  Coligny."  These  are 
not  Protestant  opinions,  nor  is  that  of  Voltaire,  who  exoner- 
ates the  admiral.  It  was  the  shame  of  certain  Huguenots 
to  sing  verses  in  praise  of  the  assassin,  as  the  Judith  of  his 
age,  the  "liberator  of  France."  f 

And  yet  France  was,  iinquestionably,  a  freer  land.  Over 
court  and  cottage  passed  a  breath  of  peace.  Catherine  was 
out  of  bondage,  for  the  reign  of  the  Triumvirs  was  ended. 
The  royal  army  had  no  able, commander.  "I  was  obliged 
to  command  it  myself,"  she  said,  "for  Brissac  was  ill." 
French  soldiers  longed  to  get  home.  The  people  were  suf- 
fering. Pea.sants  had  left  their  farms,  fields  were  abandoned, 
villages  desolate  or  in  ashes  and  towns  deserted.     Agricul- 

*  He  names  Bcza,  who  wrote  to  Calvin:  "The  tyrannicide  on  his 
trial  and  amid  liis  tortures  a  liundred  times  declared  me  innocent  of 
all  participation  in  the  murder." 

f  Calvin's  opinion  may  be  desired.  The  Duchess  of  Ferrara  (Re- 
tire), wrote  to  him  about  her  late  son-in-law :  "  I  know  that  he  was  a 
persecutor,  but  I  do  not  know  nor  believe  that  he  is  reprobated  of 
God,  for  he  gave  signs  of  a  Christian  man  before  his  death."  She 
complained  that  the  ministers  "  blackened  his  memory."  Calvin  re- 
plied :  "  A  good  cause  [that  of  relieving  the  persecuted]  has  been  very 
ill-conducted.  .  .  .  For  my  own  part,  though  I  have  often  prayed 
God  to  show  him  mercy,  yet  it  is  certain  that  I  have  often  desired 
tliat  God  should  lay  his  hand  on  him  [Guise],  in  order  to  deliver  out 
of  his  hands  the  poor  Church,  unless  it  pleased  God  to  convert  him. 
So  that  I  may  protest  that  before  the  war,  I  had  but  to  give  my  con- 
sent to  have  him  exterminated  by  those  men  of  prompt  and  ready 
execution,  who  were  bent  on  that  object,  and  who  were  restrained  by  my 
exhortation.  To  pronounce  that  he  is  damned,  however,  is  to  go  too 
far,  unless  one  had  some  certain  and  infallible  mark  of  his  reproba- 
tion  I  bless  God  for  liaving  made  known  to  you  the  real  cha- 
racter of  the  admiral  to  inspire  you  with  a  taste  for  his  probity.  When 
it  shall  please  him  he  will  do  tlie  rest." — Letters,  dclxiv. 


THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE.  349 

ture  had  been  given  up  by  those  wiio  were  "  robbed  to-day 
by  one  party,  to-morrow  by  another ;"  commerce  had  ceased, 
and  tlie  mills  stood  idle.  "No  one  was  secure  in  property 
or  life,"*  says  Castclnau.  "Thus  the  war  for  religion  de- 
stroyed both  religion  and  piety." 

As  a  specimen  of  the  towns  to  which  relief  came  by  the 
death  of  Guise,  we  take  Montargis.  It  had  the  advantage 
of  Madame  Rente's  protection.  Its  inhabitants  were  famed 
of  old  for  their  rudeness  toward  citizens  or  luckless  travel- 
lers. But  the  "Lady  Kesident"  was  doing  something  for 
their  instruction,  and  they  bowed  low  when  the  daughter 
of  Louis  XII.  smiled  upon  her  people.  Her  old,  vast  castle 
was  ever  open  to  refugees ;  more  than  three  hundred  Hu- 
guenots were  sheltered  and  fed  within  its  walls.  Francis 
Morel  was  her  chief  minister.  When  the  news  of  Vassy 
reached  her,  she  ordered  the  gates  of  the  town  to  be  guarded, 
that  neither  Papist  nor  Huguenot  might  pass.  But  there 
was  one  Barreau,  warden  of  the  largest  church,  who  i)ut 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  seditious  cli({ues,  and  they  armed, 
fully  resolved  to  rush  forth  at  midnight  and  cut  the  throats 
of  all  Protestants  on  whom  they  could  lay  hands.  They 
used  the  great  church  as  their  military  quarters. 

"The  bailiff*  will  punish  severely  all  persons  who  hold 
meetings  b}'  day  or  by  night,"  was  madame's  order.  Yet, 
on  the  second  evening  after  this  nearly  seven  hundred 
rioters  gathered,  and,  with  "  noise  louder  than  the  sound  of 
tocsin,"  fell  upon  a  poor  blind  innkeeper,  almost  killed  his 
wife,  and  were  soon  at  the  house  of  Claude  Chaperon,  "  an 
elder  of  the  religion,"  who  had  not  the  grace  to  let  them 
slay  him.     ^Madame  sent  to  Orleans,  not  far  dista"ut,  and 

*  The  leader  of  one  of  the   wild   p^anp^s  o.illed  Barefcct  shouted, 
"  There  are  too  many  people  in   Fnuice ;  we  will   kill  a   lot  of  them 
and  make  bread  cheap."     De  Serres  [Hits  such  words  into  the  m/)uth 
of  the  Duke  of  Guise. —  White, 
Vol.  I.— 30 


350  ADMIRAL    COLIGXY. 

some  of  Conde's  troopers  quelled  the  mob,  took  their  arms 
into  the  castle,  hung  three  ringleaders  and  reduced  all  to 
good  order.  Montargis  was  the  refuge  for  more  of  the  per- 
secuted, some  of  them  Romanists.  They  came  from  Blois, 
Tours,  Sens  and  Paris,  sixty  miles  away.* 

Conde's  soldiers  left  madame  to  provide  her  own  guard, 
and  soon  the  raiders  of  Guise  threw  terror  into  the  place. 
She  was  "marvellously  anxious"  for  the  safety  of  the  poor 
Huguenots  and  their  families,  who  might  be  exposed  to  the 
insults  of  merciless  visitors.  "  I  advise  you  to  retire  to  the 
country,"  she  said  to  her  ministers,  "  until  the  storm  is 
over."  They  started,  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  "  the 
Scotch  guards,"  who  said,  "  These  must  be  good  men  ;  they 
don't  swear  like  other  people ;"  and  then  led  them  "  to  the 
haven  where  they  would  be."  The  castle  was  now  the 
general  resort.  It  was  overflowing  with  poor  men,  women 
and  children,  and  resembled  a  hospital.  The  Guises  came 
to  make  it  their  headquarters,  placing  an  army  upon  the 
town.  Every  Huguenot  trembled,  but  madame  threw  her 
shield  over  all  in  her  chateau.  In  the  town  the  soldiers 
took  their  wild  vengeance,  tearing  up  the  seats  of  the  Prot- 
estant temple,  destroying  the  pulpit  and  erecting  their 
altars  and  images.f 

*  "You  have  been  as  a  nursinsr-mother  to  those  pool-  persecuted 
bretliren  wlio  knew  not  wliere  to  flee.  Many  a  princess  would  have 
taken  it  as  an  insult  to  have  her  castle  called  Gotl's  hostelry." — Calvin 
to  the  Duchess,  dcxlvii. 

f  "  As  to  my  late  son-in-law  (Guise),  any  one  may  have  proof  that  I 
did  not  swerve  in  anything  on  his  account,  and  may  see  that  he  rather 
swerved  from  his  course  to  protect  me  and  mine.  It  should  be  known 
whether  he  did  not  also  exert  himself  that  Chatillon,  which  belongs 
to  the  admiral,  should  not  be  confiscated  nor  sacked.  I  am  well  aware 
that  some  persons  do  not  wish  these  facts  to  be  known.  I  say  it  before 
God,  who  knows  the  truth  of  it.  Yet  I  would  not  excuse  the  failings 
of  my  son-in-law."     In  this  apology  Madame  Kenee  does  not,  how- 


Tiinorrnr  wak  to  peace.  3-51 

Tlie  Duke  of  Guise  took  from  his  mother-in-law  the 
guardianship  of  Montargis,  set  over  it  a  renegade  Protest- 
ant, forbade  her  to  allow  the  ga«pel  to  her  servants  and 
finally  ordered  her  to  leave  "that  nest  of  Huguenots." 
He  was  now  the  only  Triumvir  in  power,  and  his  tyranny 
was  excessive.  She  refused  to  go :  she  was  aged,  ill  and 
yet  courageous,  A  messenger  came  with  Catherine's  cx- 
jtreiss  orders;  she  still  did  not  pack  up  her  trunks.  Then 
came  Malicorne  with  four  companies  of  horse  to  strike 
terror  in  the  heart  of  one  woman  and  compel  her  to  sub- 
mit. It  was  chivalrous!  She  saw  the  townsmen  open  the 
gates  to  the  cavalry.  The  furious  mob  vied  with  them  in 
savageness.  They  dragged  a  poor  Huguenot  from  his  sick- 
bed, beat  him,  tormented  him,  and  he  threw  himself  into 
tlie  river  Loing  to  drown,  rather  than  be  butchered.  They 
fired  upon  him,  drew  him  out  and  cut  him  to  j^ieces  with 
daggers.     Still  madame  wa.s  unterrified. 

"You  demand  my  surrender,"  she  replied  to  the  sum- 
mons. "  You  order  me  to  go  to  one  of  the  king's  palaces. 
I  understand  it.  Those  places  are  near  Paris,  and  not  for- 
tified. I  should  there  be  in  danger  of  slaughter,  which  the 
king,  my  nephew,  does  not  intend.  I  shall  wait  until  you 
biing  me  his  command."    A  messenger  was  sent  to  Charles. 

But  the  Chevalier  Mai icorne,  eager  to  display  a  Guisean 
spirit,  made  further  threats:  "A  party  will  storm  the 
citadel  with  battering  engines ;  I  have  sent  Biron  to  Or- 
leans for  cannon,"  (the  duke  was  now  besieging  that  city). 
Kenee  answered  the  ujtstart  right  royally:  "  Beware  what 
you  do.  No  one  in  all  France  has  authority  over  me, 
except  my  king.  Bring  on  your  artillery  if  you  dare.  I 
will  put  myself  in  the  breach  and,  at  tlie  risk  of  my  life, 

ever,  contradict  the  facts  of  history.  It  is  gratifying  to  find  tliat  some 
clieck  was  put  upon  tlie  rough  soldiery,  from  whose  liand.s  the  barest 
escape  was  a  matter  of  gratitude. 


352  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

try  whether  you,  or  any  other  man,  be  so  foolhardy  as  to 
dare  slay  the  daughter  of  the  l)e,st  and  mightiest  of  kings!"* 

"No  firing  just  at  present,"  thought  Malicorne,  as  he 
quailed  before  a  courage  unspeakably  above  his  own,  for 
he  was  hoping  to  enrich  himself  by  plundering  the  shel- 
tered Huguenots,  four  of  whom  were  royal  officers  of  high 
degree.  He  thirsted  for  the  blood  of  the  ministers.  But 
God  ordained  his  disappointment,  says  Beza.  Guise  fell 
by  the  assassin.  Malicorne  had  no  more  a  master  "  to 
whom  he  looked  for  further  promotion,"  and  he  went  to 
Orleans.  "  Thus  was  Montargis  preserved  with  its  refugees, 
each  of  whom  afterward  retired  to  his  house  in  hope  of 
enjoying  the  edict  of  peace." 

On  one  day  a  genuine  Huguenot  lady — the  wife  of 
Conde — was  in  her  parlour  at  Orleans,  talking  with  her 
grand-uncle,  the  prisoner  Montmorency.  They  talked  of 
peace.  "  Yes,  anything  to  get  out  of  this  pack  of  psalm- 
singers,"  thinks  the  Bench-burner.  Another  day,  Catherine 
sends  for  the  princely  captive;  she  and  Conde  talk  of 
peace  and  the  lieutenant-generalship.  "Almost  anything 
for  that,"  is  his  thought.  The  soft  air  of  the  court  charms 
him.  Another  day,  Conde  and  Montmorency  are  walking 
arm-in-arm  on  an  island  of  the  Loire,  at  Orleans,  and  they 
are  talking  of  peace  and  the  January  edict.  The  old 
papist  flies  into  a  rage :  "  That  edict  shall  never  be  re- 
stored. Every  one  Avho  had  a  hand  in  drawing  it  up 
ought  to  be  flayed  alive."  Conde  must  dilute  his  medi- 
cine, if  he  would  allay  the  evils  of  war.     Why   not   wait 

*  Beza,  Hist,  des  Eglises ;  Memorials  of  Duchess  Renee.  "  You 
are  solicited  to  permit  the  shops  of  the  papists  to  be  pillaged.  I  take 
good  care  not  to  approve  of  such  a  step,  wlioever  may  have  taken  it. 
I  commend  you  for  resisting  so  unjust  a  demand.  ...  I  know  you 
will  set  an  example  of  charity  to  those  who  know  not  what  it  is." — 
Calvin,  Letters,  dclxiv. 


TirnoTJGir  wah  to  peat  k.  353 

for  Coligny  to  arrive  from  the  north?  Catherine  knows 
that  his  terms  will  embrace  some  of  the  solidities  of  liberty. 

We  need  not  wonder  that  Cond^'  was  pcrsnaded  to  ar- 
ranfje  a  quiet  pillow  for  the  sallow,  shivering,  ague-stricken 
Andelot,  and  to  stretch  forth  his  hand  and  seize  the  bridles 
of  Coligny's  sweeping  cavalry.  The  prince  was  ambitious. 
It  seemed  that  his  hour  had  come — an  hour  of  office  for 
himself  and  of  fivvour  for  the  Huguenots.  Death  had 
crept  up  to  Rouen  and  by  a  random  stroke  had  vacated 
for  him  his  brother's  position  next  to  the  king.  Death  had 
slipped  through  the  copsewood  at  Dreux  and  given  one  of 
the  six  Guise  brothers  a  mortal  wound,  and  another  a  fatal 
cold.  Death  had  gone  to  Orleans,  and,  with  fanatical  bold- 
ness, laid  low  the  duke  on  whom  all  activity  in  France 
seemed  to  depend.  "  That  single  shot  shattered  the  Cath- 
olic confederacy  and  changed  the  politics  of  Europe.  The 
Guise  family  fell  with  their  head  into  sudden  ruin."  To 
one  of  them  Coligny  had  attended  at  Caen ;  to  another 
heavy  work  was  given  at  the  council  of  Trent ;  and  only 
one  of  them  now  was  at  court,  "the  Cardinal  of  Guise,  the 
single  member  of  the  family  who  had  no  capacity."  Death, 
too,  had  removed  >St.  Andre,  the  decoyer  emj)loyed  by  the 
women's  faction.  The  Triumvirate  was  broken  :  only  Mont- 
morency remained,  and  he  a  jjrisoner  at  Orleans;  he  would 
veer  and  favour  again  the  Chalillons.  AVhat  a  thinning 
out  of  the  great  leaders  and  politicians!  A  new  order  of 
things  must  come.  "Why  should  not  Conde  inaugurate  it? 
Why  should  he  not  break  forth  from  the  cloud  of  years 
and  show  himself  the  statesman  for  the  times,  the  grand- 
master of  France,  the  lifter-up  of  her  fallen  head,  the 
Bourbon  who  should  crown  her  with  glory,  the  j)rince  of 
Protestantism  and  the  chieftain  of  a  league  against  the 
pope  and  Philip  of  Spain?     Ambition  dictated  i)eace. 

Coligny  had  won  almost  all  Lower  Norjuandy,  and  was 
30  » 


354  ADMIRAT.    rOLTGNY, 

arranging  for  a  splendid  allianrc  with  England.  He  liad 
"  great  hopes  of  more  success ;"  at  least  he  would  secure 
the  good  edict  of  January,  on  which  Chandieu  and  other 
seventy  ministers  were  insisting  with  such  extreme  zeal  as 
to  desire  no  tolerance  to  be  given  to  "  atheists  and  Anabap- 
tists." But  just  when  the  admiral  saw  his  party  stronger 
than  ever,  a  courier  came  flying  into  Caen  with  the  news, 
"  Peace  is  restored  ;  lay  down  arms."  It  was  amazing.  It 
aroused  his  indignation.  The  articles  wonderfully  cut 
down  the  Huguenot  liberties.  But  might  he  not  push 
forward,  reach  Orleans  before  the  paper  was  signed  and 
prevent  the  wreck  of  his  hopes?  It  was  a  long  and  peril- 
ous ride.  He  set  out  with  his  choicest  cavalry,  smiting 
towns  that  disputed  his  way  and  throwing  certain  priests 
into  a  fright.  He  reached  Orleans :  it  was  too  late.  The 
treaty  of  Amboise  had  been  signed  five  days  before. 

"  I  could  not  help  it,"  said  Conde.  "  The  queen  threat- 
ened to  make  a  stronger  attack  upon  Orleans."  He  did 
not  say  that  the  soft  air  of  the  court  had  charmed  him. 
The  arts  that  had  ruined  his  brother  Antony  were  brought 
to  bear  upon  him.  That  "flying  squadron"  of  court  ladies 
had  him  quite  in  their  hands. 

"  You  have  sacrificed  the  cause  of  God,"  replied  the 
admiral.  "  You  have  ruined  more  churches  by  one  stroke 
of  the  pen  than  the  enemy  could  have  done  by  ten  years 
of  war."  The  articles  of  the  treaty  which  concern  us  are 
these :  that  the  Huguenots  should  be  regarded  as  loyal 
subjects ;  that  all  foreign  soldiers  be  sent  out  of  the  king- 
dom ;  that  all  captured  churches  and  temples  be  restored 
to  the  proper  parties ;  that  (instead  of  the  suburbs  of  every 
town)  the  suburbs  of  one  town  in  each  bailiwick  be  as- 
signed for  Protestant  meetings ;  and  that  the  nobility  and 
gentry  be  allowed  to  hold  worshij)  in  their  own  houses  with 
their  tenants.     "  It  favours  the  gentlemen,"  said  the  ad- 


THKnl'f.lI    WAR    TO    PKAfK.  .JOO 

niiriil ;  "  but  what  of  tlie  pooi-,  ulio  luive  t'uuglit  as  bravely 
as  the  nobles?  They  must  walk  weary  miles — women, 
childrin,  the  feeble  and  aged — or  have  no  public  worship. 
]\Iany  will  relapse  into  Romanism."  The  Huguenots  soon 
found  that  the  treaty  was  a  rope  of  sand. 

"  The  conditions  of  the  late  peace  are  so  much  to  our 
disadvantage  that  we  have  reason  to  invoke  God  more  than 
ever  to  have  compassion  upon  us  and  remedy  such  extrem- 
ities. One  thing  is  certain :  we  must  hold  down  our  heads 
and  humble  ourselves  before  God,  who  has  admirable  issues 
in  his  hand,  though  the  beginnings  are  such  as  to  astonish 
us.  I  cannot  dissemble  that  everybody  is  displeased  with 
the  prince  for  showing  himself  so  accommodating,  and  still 
more  for  being  in  such  a  hurry  to  conclude.  It  seems 
])retty  evident,  also,  that  he  has  provided  better  for  his  own 
personal  safety  than  for  the  common  repose  of  the  j:)oor 
brethren.  But  we  ought  to  close  our  mouths,  since  it  is 
God's  will  to  afHict  us.  I  shall  always  give  my  advice  to 
abstain  from  arms.  Better  perish  than  have  another  war. 
God  will  bring  light  out  of  darkness."* 

*  Calvin's  Ipttcr  to  Ma<lame  de  Rove.  The  articles  of  tlie  treaty 
are  in  his  letter,  No.  dexl.,  in  whicli  lie  says  to  Bullinger,  "The  other 
brother  ha.s  betrayed  us.  The  Inst  of  power  ha.s  blinded  liim."  Nor 
was  the  treaty  acceptable  to  the  pope  and  Philip,  wiio  must  ever  be 
taken  into  account,  for  they  wished  notiiing  short  of  extermination 
of  heresy — the  one  being  moved  by  zeal  and  the  otlier  partly  by  self- 
isliness,  for  Philip  liojicd  to  keep  France  in  trouble,  so  that  his  tyranny 
in  till'  Netlierlands  mi'rlit  not  be  checked. 


CHAPTER  XIII.    • 

VXDEIt    A.     CLOID. 
(15G3-1.50i.) 

THREE  movements  were  now  in  progress.  The  whole 
force  of  the  Guises  was  directed  against  Admiral  Co- 
ligny,  to  overwhelm  him  with  charges  of  complicity  in  the 
murder  of  the  duke.  The  whole  power  of  flattery,  "  that 
engine  of  courts,"  was  brought  to  bear  upon  Conde,  to  sepa- 
rate him  for  ever  from  the  Protestant  cause.  These  two 
points  gained,  the  Huguenots  might  be  swept  from  the 
earth.  A  third  scheme  seemed  more  patriotic  ;  it  was  the 
recovery  of  Havre  from  the  English.  It  might  enlist  all 
parties,  and  serve  as  a  means  of  uniting  them.  The  first 
and  last  of  these  three  proceedings  fill  large  pages  in  his- 
tory.*    We  shall  gather  up  only  what  is  most  important, 

Into  the  various  papers  and  defences  of  Coligny  we  can- 
not fully  enter,  nor  is  it  necessary.  But  the  affair  was  a 
drama,  with  its  scenes  enacted  wherever  the  court  sojourned 
for  long  months.  The  king  could  not  get  rid  of  it.  All 
Europe  was  interested  in  the  fact  of  Coligny's  innocence, 
and  in  the  result  of  the  efforts  made  to  destroy  him.  It 
brought  France  to  a  new  crisis. 

The  drama  was  opened  by  an  imposing  scene  at  court, 
devised  by  skilful  managers,  who  made  their  stroke  in  be- 
half of  the  late  Duke  of  Guise.     His  mother  and  Anne  his 

*  Various  papers  in  Mem.  de  Conde;  Tliiiani,  Hist.  Mezeray,  Perau, 
Castelnau,   Davila,   Vita   Culinii,  Memoires   relatifs   .^  I'Histoire  de 
France. 
356 


TTXDER    A    f'LOUD.  357 

^vitlo^v,  with  the  children,  veik;cl  women  filling  the  air  with 
their  cries  tnd  groans,  and  a  train  of  relatives,  all  robed  in 
black,  came  into  the  king's  ])re.sence  with  all  possible  cere- 
mony. The  two  duchesses  knelt  before  him,  and  solemnly 
uttered  the  word  "Justice!"  The  king  offered  to  raise 
them  up,  when  they  a^ked  him  to  institute  a  close  inquiry 
intt)  the  foul  crime  which  had  brought  dest)lation  into  their 
family.  If  Catherine  had  not  arranged  the  affiiir,  she  gave 
a  promise  tliat  the  case  should  be  investigated,  and  thus 
fanned  the  flames  of  party  strife. 

The  Guises  took  their  leave,  not  suspecting  that  their 
visit  was  to  work  against  themselves,  and  strengthen  the 
nuin  whom  they  sought  to  crush.  Odet  Coligny  was 
coming  to  court.  He  had  laid  aside  his  red  hat  and  Papal 
robes  soon  after  his  conversion  to  the  truth,  and  assumed 
the  title  of  Count  of  lieauvais.  The  pope  knew  all  about 
his  support  of  Protestant  preaching,  and  his  contempt  of 
Koman  honours.  Pius  IV.  was  not  the  man  to  let  one  who 
might  have  aspired  to  the  Papal  chair  rest  (piiet  in  his 
heresy.  He  was  shocked  at  "  the  monstrous  deformity"  of 
religion  in  France.  Referring  to  such  men  as  Odet  de 
Chatillun,  Montluc,  Bishop  of  Valence,*  and  Caraccioli,  the 
Reformer  at  Troyes,  he  was  accustomed  to  say,  "  These 
masked  heretics  do  more  harna  than  those  who  are  out- 
spoken in  public."  As  there  was  no  Inquisition  in  France 
to  drag  them,  and  others  like  them,  before  it,  he  cited  them 
to  appear  at  Rome,  and  purge  themselves  of  the  charge  of 
heri'sy.  But  they  had  no  relish  for  the  purgatives  of  an 
inquisitorial  committee  so  far  away.  The  pope  had  no 
right  thus  to  summon  them.     The  liberties  of  the  Gallicaii 

*  The  bishops  of  Valence  aiul  of  Moiitpelier  are  set  clown  as  Pro- 
testants by  the  editor  of  Rabelais'  works.  Gabutius  mentions  seven 
French  bisliopa  wlio  were  deposed  for  heresy. — PuHcij  of  Chiuch  of 

Ruvw. 


358  ADMIRAL   COLTGXY. 

Cliureli  assured  to  every  bishop  a  trial  by  twelve  of  his  own 
rank  and  country.  The  pope  was  angry.  He  was  prepar- 
ing an  excommunication  for  Chatillon,  who  chose  a  wife 
and  was  married  in  his  cardinal's  cap  and  robes.*  In  these 
he  often  appeared  at  court,  or  in  parliament,  or  on  very 
ceremonious  occasions,  as  an  irony  upon  the  pope's  charge 
of  being  a  "  masked  heretic."  His  wife  was  the  excellent 
Elizabeth  de  Hautville,  who  was  often  styled  Madame  le 
Cardinal. 

Calvin  wrote  to  Coligny,  saying:  "We  are  very  sorry 
that  the  journey  of  the  count  has  been  retarded,  for  it  is 
very  desirable  that  he  should  be  at  court.  But  we  see  that 
he  had  good  reasons  to  delay,  lest  he  should  expose  himself 
to  danger,  and  also  to  sound  the  disposition  of  the  people. 
We  thank  God  that  you  have  resolved  to  go  as  soon  as  he 
shall  arrive  thither,  and  inform  you  that  there  is  no  risk." 
It  was  Catherine  and  Conde  who  informed  the  admiral  of 
the  risk,  so  that  after  he  came  he  was  persuaded  to  return 
to  Chatillon,  leaving  his  friends  to  defend  him.  Odet 
protested  against  the  promise  made  by  the  king  to  the 
Guise  duchesses.  His  brother,  the  admiral,  as  a  Huguenot, 
could  hardly  obtain  justice  from  men  who  were  partizans. 
"  Very  true,"  thought  the  king. 

"  But  we  must  press  the  matter,"  whispered  Catherine  in 
the  ear  of  her  son,  "and  thus  induce  Cond^  to  discard 
Coligny."  What  cared  she  for  accused  or  accusers,  if  she 
might  only  divide  and  reign  ? 

*  Sarpi,  Pallavicino.  Calvin  wrote  to  the  admiral:  "Touching 
the  cardinal's  hat,  we  know  very  well  that  it  is  not  a  thhig  of  sucli 
importance  as  many  people  would  make  it.  But  you  are  aware  that 
we  cannot  altogether  exculpate  him.  In  conscience  we  cannot  help 
Baying  that  there  was  a  certain  degree  of  levity  in  his  conduct  in  that 
matter.  We  would  show  those  who  are  offended,  and  who  make  war 
upon  liim  tliat  it  is  pardonable,  and  that  we  highly  esteem  him  as  Le 
daserves." — Letter  to  Coligny,  oth  July,  1563. 


UNDER    A    CLOUD.  359 

"  We  must  not  pursue  the  case,"  said  certiiin  nieiubcrs 
of  pivrliament.  "  If  we  do,  we  risk  another  civil  war. 
There  is  not  a  Huguenot  who  will  refuse  to  defend  his 
leader."  Yet  proceedings  were  begun.  Coligny  must  be 
ruined  wlule  Conde  was  under  temptation.  Not  a  stone 
must  be  left  unturned,  if  it  would  let  loose  a  viper  to  hiss 
in  evidence  against  the  admiral.  It  was  another  crisis. 
The  tongues  of  nearly  all  France  were  engaged  in  discuss- 
ing the  (picstions  involved.  We  can  touch  only  the  leading 
points. 

"Let  there  be  a  fair  trial,"  demanded  the  entire  Hugue- 
not nol)ility.  "  Let  the  queen-mother  be  asked  why  she  did 
not  permit  the  admiral  to  confront  the  man  who  quenched 
that  firebrand  which  for  thirteen  months  threw  all  France 
into  a  blaze.  AVe,  too,  demand  justice.  Let  inquiry  be 
nuide  whether  the  Guises  have  not  sent  their  agents  to  take 
the  life  of  our  great  leader."  This  loud  remonstrance  could 
not  be  hushed. 

"  My  brother  wishes  a  hearing,"  said  Andelot  to  Cathe- 
rine. "His  conscience  is  clear  before  God,  and  he  is  ready 
to  make  clear  his  actions  before  his  proper  judges."  The 
hypocritical  queen  was  troubled ;  the  haste  in  executing 
Poltrot  was  creating  a  suspicion  against  herself. 

"  This  is  an  odious  persecution,"  was  the  purj)ort  of 
Conde's  addresses  and  long  letters.  "The  admiral  is  about 
to  be  hounded  to  death — but  not  if  I  can  help  it.  Goods, 
office,  lil'e,  everything,  I  am  ready  to  lay  down  in  the  de- 
fence of  my  best  friend,  the  uncle  of  my  wife,  the  man  who 
has  rendered  to  the  state  his  earnest  services,  and  who  wa.s 
not  the  author  of  the  late  war,  whether  that  war  be  consid- 
ered just  or  rebellious.  Madame,  that  innocent,  fearless 
man  was  on  his  way  hither,  anxious  to  present  his  case  to 
you.  He  was  unwilling  to  hide  in  a  corner,  as  a  guilty 
wretch  in  dread  of  the  law.     It  was  at  your  reqiiest  that 


360  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

I  drew  him  aside  and  shoAved  him  his  danger:  I  argued 
and  finally  prevailed.  I  sent  him  back  to  Chatillon,  and 
there  he  groans  under  the  burden  of  these  charges.*  There 
he  draws  his  wife  and  children  around  him,  and  waits  to 
know  whether  he  is  to  be  torn  from  them  by  fair  but  rude 
hands.  .  .  .  The  enmity  of  the  Guises  against  the  Chatil- 
lons  is  notorious.  Religion  has  divided  them.  I  beseech 
you,  do  not  allow  the  name  and  the  power  of  the  king  to  be 
used  in  so  perverting  religion  that  it  shall  be  made  to  favour 
the  one  house  or  the  other.  Let  each  be  treated  on  the 
ground  of  legal  justice."  Catherine  was  foiled.  The 
prince  would  never  discard  his  truest  friend. 

With  these  words  a  crisis  passed.  The  scale  had  turned, 
and  yet  a  tremendous  hand  was  laid  to  the  beam.  It  was 
that  of  the  whole  house  of  ]\Iontmorency.  The  aged  baron, 
the  last  of  the  Triumvirate,  was  won  back  to  the  old  regard 
for  his  nephews — one  good  result  of  the  vigorous  attack 
upon  Coligny.  '•  I  take  up  the  cause  of  my  injured  cousin," 
said  Francis  Montmorency,  who  had  taken  Conde  prisoner 
at  Dreux,  and  who  now  rose  as  the  prince  sat  down  in 
the  council.  (And  here  we  remark  that  the  civil  wars  of 
France  were  generally  caused  by  the  strifes  between  rival 
houses — the  Guises  against  the  Bourbons — but  the  Mont- 
morenciesf  had  just  sided  against  the  Chatillons.  Coligny 
must  have  been  touched  to  see  them  take  his  part  so  stoutly 
at  this  critical  moment.)  "  It  is  the  intention  of  the  con- 
stable, my  father,  to  sustain  his  nephews  as  his  own  chil- 

*  Coligny  had  followed  np  his  written  defence  bv  leaving  home  and 
going  to  St.  Germain  with  a  company  of  nearly  ?ix  hundred  gentlemen. 

f  "The  constable  grows  milder  every  day.  .  .  .  The  constable  un- 
flinchingly defends  the  edict  [of  Aniboise]  which  confers  liberty  on 
our  churches,  guarantees  security  to  them,  and  gives  it  as  liis  opinion 
that  the  edict  ouglit  to  be  maintained  Intact." — Calviii's  Letters,  2d 
July  and  dth  September,  1563. 


UNDKK    A    CT,uri).  361 

dreii,  and  to  emj)loy  in  their  favour  all  his  credit  and 
power.  In  his  name,  in  the  name  of  the  whole  family,  I 
protest  against  this  assault  upon  the  admiral,  and  in  his 
defence  I  offer  my  sword,  my  goods,  my  life." 

Catherine  trembled.  She  wished  she  had  never  seen  the 
widowed  Guises,  nor  promised  them  their  sort  of  "justice." 
A  thousand  swords  might  leap  from  their  scabbards  to 
silence  the  accusers  of  her  safest  counsellor.  The  whole 
council  saw  the  frightful  verge  on  which  hung  the  govern- 
ment. The  king  took  alarm.  The  result  was  an  order  for 
the  two  parties  to  hush  all  proceedings,  retire  to  their  homes 
and  wait  for  calmer  days  and  cooler  judgments. 

To  unite  all  parties  in  a  patriotic  work,  the  summons  had 
gone  fortli  for  Papist  and  Huguenot  to  drive  the  English 
from  Havre.  Guisard  and  Bourbon  rcsjionded,  greatly  to 
the  surprise  of  Elizabeth.  Conde,  now  lured  into  the  nets 
of  the  court,  blinded  by  a  wicked  passion,  and  ready  to 
follow  the  gay  flatterers  wherever  bound,  cheerfully  assented 
to  Catherine  when  she  laughingly  said,  "  You  led  the  Eng- 
lish into  France,  and  now  you  are  obliged  to  drive  them 
out."  But  tlic  Chatillons,  less  forgetful  of  the  bargain 
with  Elizabeth,  and  quite  certain  that  they  would  soon 
need  her  kindly  aid  again,  excused  themselves.  "My 
affairs  at  Chatillon  require  attention,"  said  the  admiral. 
"And  I  must  shake  off  these  killing  agues,"  said  Andelot.* 
They  were  excused,  but  their  old  Huguenot  soldiers  fought 
at  Havre  so  cordially  by  the  side  of  their  late  foes  that  the 
chancellor,  proud  of  his  work  in  the  last  edict,  looked  on 
with  honest  exultation,  saying,  "Behold  the  effect  of  a 
paeifieation  of  which  some  have  dared  to  complain.  It 
reunites  tlie  royal  family,  restores  to  us  our  brothers,  estab- 

*  Tlieir  uncle  was  almost  as  averse  to  the  enterprise.     "  It  is  with 
groat  diflicnltv  that  the  constable  has  been  at  length  induceil  to  lead 
an  array  against  the  English." — Calvin,  2d  July,  1563. 
Vol.  I. — 31 


362  ADMIKAL    CULIGNY. 

lishes  public  safety,  and  once  more  renders  the  nation 
respectable  for  its  virtue  and  power."  Sir  Chancellor,  wait 
a  little!  Havre  was  regained.*  "Let  our  gratitude  be 
expressed,"  said  the  queen-mother,  "  by  founding  a  grand 
hospital  for  maimed  soldiers,  giving  them  a  home  for  life, 
on  the  plan  which  the  admiral  has  so  often  suggested."  It 
was  to  be  a  sort  of  Hotel  des  Invalides.  Had  Coligny  been 
favoured,  the  project  might  not  have  failed. 

Beza  tells  us  that  the  admiral  and  Andelot — the  one 
having  lost  his  eldest  son  and  the  other  his  eldest  daughter 
— being  now  again  at  home,  celebrated  the  Lord's  supper  at 
Easter,  which  was  done  with  great  rejoicings  on  the  part  of 
those  of  the  Religion,  who  gave  many  thanks  to  God  for 
the  present  state  of  their  affairs.  A  few  days  afterward 
the  admiral  came  to  his  seat  of  justice,  invoked  the  name 
of  God  and  commanded  that  the  sittings  should  thenceforth 
open  with  prayer,  according  to  a  form  w'hich  he  soon  had 
engraved  on  a  tablet  and  placed  in  the  hall.  Jean  Malot, 
his  minister,  spoke  of  the  causes  of  the  late  calamities,  ex- 
horting the  magistrates  to  act  justly  and  the  subjects  to  live 
in  obedience  to  their  superiors.  Also,  said  he,  "  let  the 
admiral  look  well  to  these  things." 

"To  this  work,"  replied  Coligny,  "may  the  Lord  spare 
me  to  devote  the  rest  of  my  life.  In  gratitude  for  what 
God  has  done,  by  giving  us  peace  in  so  short  a  time,  and  to 
encourage  all  the  officers  of  justice,  I  shall  increase  your 

*  "The  house  of  Guise  was  under  eclipse.  .  .  .  The  policy  of  France 
was  again  ready  to  be  moderate,  national,  anti-SpanLsh,  anti-papal — ■ 
to  be  all  which  England  would  mo.st  desire  to  see  it.  It  was  im{)era- 
tively  necessary  that  Elizabeth  should  make  peace,  that  she  endure  as 
best  she  might  the  supposed  ingralitude  of  Cond^,  and  accept  the 
easiest  terras  to  which  Catherine  de  Medici  would  now  consent."  By 
the  terms  Elizabeth  was  not  denied  her  claim  to  Calais  in  1567,  of 
which  the  Huguenot  leaders  would  again  take  advantage. — Froudc's 
Enyland,  yiii.  60. 


UNDER    A    fl.OUD.  3G3 

salaries.  If  any  oflor  you  bribes,  cluistiiie  tliem  severely. 
I  am  apprised  that  during  my  absence  many  have  griev- 
ously offended  me,  both  by  word  and  deed ;  but  I  forgive 
the  past ;  I  expect  better  things  in  future.  I  pray  you  all 
to  give  diligent  heed  to  the  word  of  God,  and  I  will  do  all 
in  my  power  to  have  it  preached  to  you  all,  as  the  king's 
edicts  allow." 

"  But  the  last  edict  takes  away  our  church  from  us,"  said 
some  of  the  people.  "  You  have  been  occupying  the  church 
which  you  took  from  the  priests  during  the  war.  You  must 
restore  it.  Let  them  come  back  and  take  it  if  they  choose. 
We  can  go  into  the  open  fields."  But  the  priests  refused 
to  resume  their  offices  at  Chatillon.  The  church  was  neg- 
lected, and  the  Protestants  again  used  it  for  their  worship.* 

Riding  one  day  with  Andelot  into  the  town,  he  came 
upon  a  poor  "  gentleman  " — for  many  even  of  the  nobles 
were  in  distress — and  he  said  to  his  brother,  "  It  cannot  be 
pleasing  to  God  that  we  should  go  so  well  clad  and  com- 
fortable while  this  poor  gentleman  is  so  destitute.  He  is 
of  the  same  rank  with  us,  and  just  as  much  a  patriot  as  we 
are.  If  there  be  any  difference,  it  is  that  he  has  suffered 
more,  and  yet  has  more  patience."  The  wanderer  was 
clothed  and  given  every  needed  comfort. 

On  a  day  when  he  was  setting  out  for  church  he  put  his 
alms-money  in   his   pocket   to   cast   it   into  the  treasury. 

.*  "All  things  are  peaceable  at  Lyons.  The  priests  are  moderate; 
nay,  they  fawn  upon  our  brethren.  They  have  as  yet  got  up  but  one 
mass,  and  that  on  a  profane  altar,  there  being  no  consecrated  one.  At 
Montpelier,  Nisnies  and  otlier  cities  our  brethren  are  still  in  possession 
of  the  churches,  because  no  one  of  the  opposite  party  ventures  to  claim 
them."  (City  councils  often  permitted  or  enjoined  that  the  Protestants 
should  hold  these  churches.)  Ten  days  later :  "  In  the  provinces  they 
obstinately  refuse  to  admit  our  brethren.  In  the  long  run  they  will 
have  to  be  compelled  by  force  of  arms,  and  despair  is  driving  them  on 
to  reckless  courses."— Calvin,  19lh  and  29th  July,  loG3. 


364  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

Meeting  a  man  Avhom  war  had  impoverished,  he  unwit- 
tingly put  his  hand  in  the  wrong  pocket  and  gave  him 
several  pieces  of  gold,  and  went  on  his  way.  After  the 
public  worship,  Coligny  was  returning,  and  the  pauper,  who 
had  been  amazed  at  the  largeness  of  the  gift,  was  waiting 
for  him.  "Sir,"  said  he,  "  I  cannot  think  that  it  was  your 
intention  to  give  me  so  great  a  sum.  I  am  not  so  dishonest 
as  to  take  advantage  of  your  carelessness." 

"  True,  my  good  man,"  replied  Coligny.  "  It  was  my 
mistake,  but  your  honesty  shall  be  rewarded.  I  shall  leave 
it  all  with  you."  Nor  was  this  the  end.  The  admiral 
made  him  his  guest  at  the  castle,  finding  him  "  an  example 
of  virtue."  Learning  one  day  that  a  very  diffident  woman 
was  at  his  door,  begging  only  for  her  starving  infant,  the 
admiral  took  the  most  generous  charge  of  her  and  her 
family. 

In  such  deeds  Coligny  was  happiest.  He  founded  hos- 
pitals in  his  villages  for  the  sick  and  persecuted,  workshops 
for  the  vagabonds,  schools  for  the  children  and  parishes  for 
all  who  hungered  for  the  w  ord  of  life.  AVhile  a  Romanist, 
he  had  been  charitable  and  earnest  in  elevating  the  people 
around  him.  One  of  his  biographers  naively  says  that 
"  he  did  not  discontinue  this  good  work  after  he  yielded  to 
the  new  religion ;  the  change  -vwas  in  this :  in  place  of  the 
priests,  he  brought  in  the  ministers."  * 

And  yet  his  life  was  not  safe.  About  this  period  his 
enemies  put  the  assassin  upon  his  track.  He  had  for  some 
years  in  his  service  a  man  of  noble  birth,  named  Hambre- 
villiers,  who  sent  letters  to  "certain  persons,  whom  it 
would  now  be  improper  to  name,"  says  his  first  biogra- 
pher,f  and  promising  that  he  would  soon  execute  his  com- 
mission. The  letters  fell  into  hands  which  were  not  in  the 
secret,  and  were  sent  to  Coligny.  He  could  not  believe  that 
*  Courtiltz,  Perau.  f  Vita  Colinii. 


UNDKR    A    CLOID.  305 

his  servant,  su  Lonc:<t  and  faillilul  Ibr  years,  was  iiivulved 
in  the  plot,  but  justice  demanded  an  inquiry.  He  sent  for 
him  and  desired  an  cxphmation.  "1  am  surprised  that 
you  think  me  engaged  in  such  a  foul  work,"  said  liambre- 
villiers,  with  an  air  of  injured  innocence.  "I  deny  having 
written  aiiy  such  letter." 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  replied  C'oliguy  ;  "  but  as  it  is  import- 
ant for  me  to  be  sure,  I  beg  you  to  take  a  pen  and  show  me 
your  handwriting."  The  man  could  not  refuse,  but  he  was 
so  alarmed  that  his  penmanship  betrayed  him  as  the  author 
of  the  letter.  "I  am  convinced,"  said  the  admiral,  "and 
you  must  be  also  by  this  time."  The  traitor  threw  himself 
at  the  feet  of  Coligny  and  begged  for  mercy. 

"  My  only  revenge  shall  be  this,"  said  the  good  admiral : 
"  I  expel  you  from  my  service.  You  must  inform  those 
who  em])loyed  you  that  there  are  other  methods  more  hon- 
ourable for  getting  rid  of  a  man  whom  they  wish  to  injure. 
I  will  not  ask  who  they  are.  As  you  are  from  Lorraine,  I 
forgive  you.  You  may  now  consider  yourself  bound  to 
serve  the  house  of  Guise."  Coligny  thenceforth  gave  orders 
for  his  steward  to  carefully  inspect  whatever  went  ujiou  his 
table. 

The  Colignys  had  their  thoughts  upon  another  siege, 
more  important  to  their  cause  of  liberty  and  religion  than 
that  of  a  northern  sea-port.  It  was  the  temptation  of  Conde. 
They  saw  their  niece  dying  of  grief,  deserted  by  the  prince 
whom  they  had  once  persuaded  her  to  accept  as  a  husband, 
and  thus  strengthened  their  Reformed  party.  It  was  she 
who  had  risked  everything  to  cheer  him  in  his  prison  when 
the  sentence  of  death  hung  over  him.  It  was  she  who  had 
knelt  before  the  queen  and  besought  his  pardon.  She,  too, 
had  a  noble  part  in  the  late  treaty.  She  had  nursed  the 
veteran  Montmorency  while  a  prisoner  at  Orleans.  She 
had  gone  to  the  queen  and  entreated  for  peace.  She  had 
31  » 


366  ADMIRAL    rOLIGXY. 

won  the  freedom  of  her  husband.  And  now,  as  a  wife  and 
mother,  she  knew  that  he  was  playing  the  fool  at  a  court 
whose  smooth  arts  had  ruined  his  brother  Antony.  She 
begged  him  to  avoid  the  evil  net,  but  neither  her  tears  nor 
her  fatal  sorrows  could  bring  him  to  sobriety.  Would  he 
prove  a  traitor  to  his  cause  ? 

"  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes "  was  a  lesson  that  was 
not  yet  fully  learned.  There  are  times  when  very  much 
depends  upon  a  man.  None  can  deny  it,  however  strong 
the  faith  in  Jehovah ;  for  he  employs  agents  to  exalt  or 
humiliate.  It  was  so  in  the  days  of  Joseph  in  Egypt,  of 
Esther  and  Ezra  in  Babylon,  and  of  the  elector  who  de- 
fended Luther.  From  Edinburgh  to  Geneva,  all  felt  that 
the  Reformed  Church  was  at  a  crisis.  Very  much  de- 
pended upon  Conde.  The  Romanists  perceived  it ;  hence 
their  most  artful  exertions.  One  of  their  later  writers  says : 
"  Had  Catherine  made  him  lieutenant-general,  as  she  had 
promised,  and  as  the  peace  of  the  kingdom  required,  he 
would  have  changed  his  religion,  or  at  least  would  never 
again  have  made  it  an  affair  of  the  state,  and  by  degrees 
the  zeal  of  the  innovators,  when  irritated  by  no  resistance, 
might  have  declined."  No  doubt  this  was  saying  too  much : 
the  writer  knew  neither  Conde  nor  the  temper  of  the  Hu- 
guenots.    And  yet  there  was  ground  for  such  an  opinion. 

Calvin  knew  the  events  hinged  upon  the  conduct  of  the 
prince.  Let  him  express  the  general  anxiety  of  the  Re- 
formed party :  "  Though  the  queen  caresses  the  Prince  of 
Conde,  yet  the  versatile  and  crafty  woman  inspires  us  with 
very  little  or  no  confidence.  Yet,  destitute  as  she  is  of  sin- 
cerity, she  would  nevertheless  comply  with  the  prince  if  she 
saw  in  him  a  prudent  and  magnanimous  man.  .  .  .  Either 
the  faint-heartedness  and  cowardice  of  Conde  outstrip  all 
belief,  or  we  shall  have  some  favourable  changes  ere  long."* 
*  Letter  to  Bullinger,  2d  July,  1563. 


UNDER   A    CLOUD.  'Mil 

"At  Paris,  the  queen  encoiiriij^cs  and  inflames  tlie  furious 
passions  of  the  people.  Every  day  new  disturbances  are 
breaking  out.  The  parliament  is  entirely  without  author- 
ity. An  armed  rabble  sets  aside  with  impunity  all  its 
decisions.  AVhen  robbers  govern,  licentiousness  will  pre- 
vail.    C'onde  keeps  silence."* 

All  along  since  the  treaty  of  peace  Calvin  had  been 
writing  to  Conde,  who  was  one  of  the  most  faithfully 
■warned  men  that  ever  lived :  "  If  you  do  not  make  good 
by  your  authority  what  you  have  gained  for  our  brethren, 
the  peace  will  be  like  a  body  without  a  soul.  Experience 
has  proved  to  you  how  audaciously  the  enemies  of  God  un- 
dertake to  do  evil,  unless  they  be  vigorously  resisted.  You 
need  not  one  word  from  me  to  point  out  to  you  how  many 
people  are  watching  to  get  the  upper  hand.  You  know 
their  mameuvres ;  if  you  give  them  leisure  to  surprise  you, 
they  will  not  fail  to  profit  by  it,  and  when  once  they  have 
their  foot  in  the  stirrup,  it  will  not  be  possible  to  restrain 
them.  Labour  more  than  ever  for  the  gospel,  since  God 
holds  out  his  hand  to  you.     Prove  yourself  worthy  in  his 

sight."  t 

"  We  beseech  you  not  only  to  take  under  your  protection 
the  cause  of  our  Lord,  so  that  the  poor  followers  of  God 
may  be  left  in  peace  and  security,  but  also  to  testify  by 
your  whole  life  that  you  have  profited  by  the  gospel  of  sal- 
vation. Let  your  example  edify  the  good  as  well  as  shut 
the  mouths  of  all  gainsayers.  Being  raised  to  such  a  pre- 
eminent rank,  as  you  are  gazed  at  from  aliir,  so  beware  that 
men  find  nothing  to  blame  in  your  conduct.  You  cannot 
doubt,  monseigneur,  that  we  cherish  your  honour  almost  as 
much  as  we  desire  your  salvation.  Now  we  should  be 
traitoi'^  to  you  if  we  left  you  in   ignorance  of  the  rumours 

♦  To  Bullin.<,'cr,  lOtli  July,  lor>3. 

f  To  Conck',  lOlli  May,  1563 — slightly  condensed. 


368  ADMIRAL   COLIGXY. 

that  are  flying  about.  Wc  do  not  believe  that  at  bottom 
there  is  any  evil  in  your  conduct,  or  that  God  is  directly 
offended" — Calvin  did  not  yet  know  the  worst — "  but  when 
we  are  told  that  you  are  making  love  to  ladies,  we  think 
that  this  greatly  derogates  from  your  authority  and  reputa- 
tion. Good  men  will  be  grieved  and  the  malicious  will 
laugh  at  it.  There  is  also  in  that  dissipation  something 
which  prevents  you  from  attending  to  your  duty.  Nay,  it 
is  possible  that  in  all  this  there  may  be  a  degree  of  worldly 
vanity ;  and  you  should  especially  take  care  that  the  light 
which  God  has  set  within  you  be  not  dimmed  nor  extin- 
guished."* 

Despite  all  this — the  pleas  and  prayers  of  Calvin,  the 
conviction  that  his  position  was  immensely  important  to 
the  cause  he  had  avowed,  and  the  tears  of  a  deserted  wife — 
Conde  was  yielding  to  the  excesses  of  the  worst  of  courts. 
That  wife,  ever  inciting  him  to  noble  deeds,  was  dying,  the 
victim  of  her  honest  but  abused  affections.  And  he  was 
listening  to  the  same  old  lures — the  isle  of  Sardinia,  the 
hand  of  Mary  Stuart,  the  Scottish  throne,  perhaps  a  new 
triumvirate.  The  widow  of  St.  Andre,  professing  in  his 
ear  to  cherish  the  Reform,  saw  the  devoted  Eleanor  de 
Roye  dying  of  a  broken  heart,  and  she  hoped  to  be  the 
successor.  She  held  out  her  hand  and  the  magnificent 
palace  of  St.  Valery,  asking  him  to  take  them  both.  He 
took  the  gift,  but  refused  to  take  the  giver. 

It  was  the  price  of  infamy ;  and  no  wonder  that  he  felt 
ashamed  even  to  stay  longer  in  that  corrupt  court,  where 
Catherine  sought  to  make  sure  of  her  own  power  by  weak- 
ening that  of  the  nobility.  Calvin  felt  all  the  disgust  and 
grief  possible,  and  he  wrote :  "  The  Prince  of  Cond6  left 
the  court  about  a  month  ago,f  because  the  queen-mother 

*  To  Cond<5,  17th  September,  1563. 
t  To  Bullinger,  2d  December,  15G3. 


rXDER  A   CLOUD.  369 

had  craftily  kept  in  suspense  the  marriage  of  her  son  witli 
the  daughter  of  St.  Andr6 ;  thus  in  truth  betraying  the 
cause  of  Christ,  he  has  consulted  oirly  his  own  interest  and 
personal  advantages.  Although  nobody  feels  any  great 
solicitude  to  have  him  appeased,  his  indignation  will  evaj)- 
orate  of  its  own  accord."  * 

Two  things  saved  Cond6.  One  was  the  fact  that  Cathe- 
rine still  withheld  from  him  the  promised  office  of  lieutenant- 
general  ;  the  other  was  the  position  taken  by  the  brave, 
upright  Coligny. 

This  man  could  not  desert  a  sick  wife,  to  whom  both  he 
and  his  great  Huguenot  cause  were  so  much  indebted. 
Had  he  written  of  her  illness  to  Calvin  ?  We  only  know 
that  the  Reformer,  himself  an  invalid,  wrote  thus  to  her: 
"  I  thank  God  for  your  recovery  from  an  illness  which  we 
had  great  reason  to  fear  might  be  mortal.  I  did  not  fail  to 
have  you  in  remembrance,  for  it  is  but  just  that  both  the 
admiral  and  yourself  should  be  objects  of  the  deepest  in- 
terest to  all  true  servants  of  God,  in  the  number  of  whom 
I  hope  to  be  reckoned,  though  I  am  more  than  unworthy 
of  that  honour.  .  .  .  Afflictions  should  be  rtiedicines  to 
purify  us,  and,  since  they  are  messengers  of  death,  we 
ought  to  learn  to  have  one  foot  raised  to  take  our  depart- 
ure when  it  shall  please  God."  A  timely  thought,  for  soon 
he  should  go  to  his  rest,  and  not  long  after  be  followed  by 
the  excellent  Charlotte.  "  I  am  very  glad  that  the  admiral 
thinks  of  going  to  court  on  the  first  occasion  that  will  pre- 
sent itself.  I  hope  for  much  good  from  the  journey,  and 
pray  God  to  prosper  it."t 

Already  had  Calvin  urged  him,  "Go  to  the  court  as  soon 
as  there  shall  be  no  risk,  for  we  have  learned  by  your  ab- 
sence  from  it  how  profitable  it  would  have  been  had  you 

*  To  Biillingcr,  2d  Peccinlier,  15G3. 

f  To  Madame  de  Coligny,  5tli  August,  1.563. 


370  ADMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

always  remained  there.  It  seems  that  everything  must  go 
from  bad  to  worse,  if  God  do  not  speedily  prevent  it,  as  we 
trust  he  will  by  means  of  you.  Thus  persuaded  that  he 
has  reserved  you  for  this  purpose,  we  earnestly  beg  you  not 
to  let  slip  any  opportunity.  For  your  presence,  at  any 
rate,  will  impose  upon  your  enemies."  Still  later  Calvin 
wrote :  "  The  admiral  makes  apologies,  saying  that  he  pre- 
fers to  remain  at  home  and  wait  a  favourable  opportunity 
to  throw  himself  into  danger."* 

"  The  king  is  going  to  Fontainebleau,"  said  the  Guises, 
'•  and,  being  so  near  to  Chatillon,  he  will  be  quite  sure  of  a 
visit  from  Coligny.  We  shall  prevent  it" — they  said  this 
to  the  queen-mother — "  for  Aumale  will  go  thither  with 
more  than  a  thousand  horsemen."  They  imagined  them- 
selves the  most  popular  of  all  the  great  houses. 

"  They  threaten  you,"  was  the  message  borne  by  a  swift 
courier  to  the  admiral.  "  There  will  be  trouble  if  you 
come." 

"  I  am  already  on  the  Avay,"  was  the  reply  by  a  trusty 
messenger.  "Am  I  to  be  prevented  a  second  time  from 
appearing  before  my  king?" 

"  I'll  arrange  it,"  said  Charles,  who  had  fears  of  a  battle 
at  Fontainebleau.  "  I  shall  dine  to-morrow  at  Chailly,  two 
leagues  on  Coligny's  route."  At  this  place  the  king  and 
his  best  friend  met.  Catherine  was  present.  They  talked 
long.  "  I  hope  it  may  please  you,"  said  Coligny,  "  that  I 
am  coming  forth  from  my  retirement.  It  Is  my  design  to 
fill  again  my  offices,  and  take  the  rank  which  it  is  ray 
honour  to  hold  at  court.  I  think  my  presence  necessary,  in 
order  to  suppress  this  factious  spirit  of  opposition,  and  to 
secure  the  safety  of  my  friends." 

"  But  the  whole  house  of  Guise  will  rise  up — " 

*  Letters  of  oih  July  and  19th  July,  1563. 


UNDEIl    A    CLOLD.  371 

"And  go  down,  too,  if  their  vanity  be  inordinate."* 
Coligny  touched  ii[Hn\  one  point  whicli  must  have  put  even 
Catherine  to  the  bhish.  "  It  has  been  observed  everywhere 
that  there  was  a  strange  contrast  between  the  funeral  cere- 
monies of  the  late  king  Francis  II.  and  those  of  the  late 
Duke  of  Guise.  How  scanty  and  negligent  the  one!  how 
grand  and  imposing  the  other !  The  one  was  buried  as  a 
menial,  of  whom  all  wore  glad  to  get  rid;  the  other  as  a 
monarch,  on  whose  life  the  fate  of  the  world  had  hung." 
All  this  was  too  true.  Catherine  quailed  under  the  voice 
of  a  man  who  in  one  day  might  arouse  the  hosts  of  a  people 
to  rebuke  arrogance  and  secure  justice.  He  was  permitted 
to  return  with  them  to  the  capital. 

It  was  a  great  day  in  Paris  when  Coligny  entered  its 
gates,  attended  by  a  lai-gcr  train  of  nobles  and  gentlemen 
than  liad  been  seen  for  twenty  years.  "  That  overshadows 
the  triumphal  entry  of  the  hero  of  Vassy,"  is  the  remark 
from  the  windows.  "Old  times  are  coming  back."  The 
king  gave  him  welcome.  "The  constable,  that  he  might 
stir  up  the  bile  of  the  envious,"  says  Calvin,  "  went  to  his 
lodgings,  and  after  breakfast  took  him  to  the  king's  palace. 
There  he  was  present  at  a  deliberation,  in  which  it  is  sup- 
posed a  great  many  matters  were  discussed  " — (the  Poltrot 
case  among  them,  no  doubt).  "The  partisans  of  Guise  de- 
camped, with  bag  and  baggage,  to  another  quarter  of  the 
city."  They  were  astonished  at  the  grandeur  of  Coligny's 
reception,  envious  of  his  popularity  and  fearful  of  his 
power.     They  even  put  their  hotel  in  a  state  of  defence. 

The  Duke  of  Nemours,  a  Guisard,  ran  to  the  queen,  say- 

*  "  The  Guises  liave  been  bridled ;  nor,  indeed,  did  they  dure  to 
interpose  [and  throw  obstacles  in  the  way  of  executing  the  edicts], 
while  the  king  menaced,  for  tlie  aihnirai  was  present  with  superior 
forces.  IIo[)e  has  again  shone  out  on  us." — Cidvin  to  Bullinger,  '20th 
October,  1563. 


372  ADaMIRAL    COLIGNY. 

iiig,  "  Our  party  is  amazed  that  you  suffer  the  admiral  to 
come  in  such  close  contact  with  your  son,  the  king.  We 
could  not  endure  his  presence." 

"  Why  so  ?"  she  replied,  having  changed  her  tactics,  and 
hoping  to  prevent  a  break  with  Conde.  "He  is  an  old 
servant  of  the  king,  and  there  is  no  reason  to  exclude  him 
from  a  visit.  The  king  desired  it.  Besides,  there  is  room 
for  everybody.  I  advise  you  all  to  return  ;"  which  advice 
they  did  not  take. 

The  king  was  on  the  point  of  going  to  the  parliament 
and  taking  the  admiral  along  with  hira.*  The  business  in 
hand  was  "the  inquiry"  promised  to  the  Guises.  Their 
wrath  must  have  been  flaming  when  the  king  issued  a 
decree  suspending  it  for  three  years ;  at  the  end  of  which 
time  we  shall  have  another  scene  of  the  duchesses.  In 
their  attem2:»t  to  ruin  Coligny  they  had  exalted  him,  and 
saved  Conde  from  complete  ruin  by  the  wiles  of  Catherine. 

The  Valois  and  Guisean  amiabilities  were  at  a  discount, 
even  among  the  younger  members  of  these  families.  "God 
seems  to  turn  children's  sport  into  serious  earnest,"  said 
Calvin.  The  widow  of  Guise  ran  one  day  to  Catherine, 
saying,  "  Your  son  Henry  has  struck  my  son  Henry  with 
an  arrow." 

"  He  was  greatly  provoked  to  do  it,"  was  the  reply. 
"But  my  family  shall  not  be  insulted,"  rejoined  Anne  of 
Guise.  Catherine  called  her  son  and  said,  "  You  were  not 
quite  in  the  right.     You  should  pardon  young  Guise." 

"  I'll  not  do  it,"  was  the  bold  answer.  "  I  cannot  bear 
the  sight  of  him.  I  detest  the  whole  family,  which  has 
brought  so  much  trouble  into  the  kingdom."  He  was  sent 
out  from  his  mother's  presence.  She  healed  the  wounds. 
These  lads  will  appear  as  Guise  and  Anjou,  thick  enough 
in  the  Papal  unity.  Calvin  wrote:  "The  queen-mother 
*  Calvin's  Letters,  2d  December,  1563. 


UNDER    A   CLOUD.  373 

pretends  to  mediate  between  all  parties,  but  many  tokens 
of  her  j)crti(ly  are  remarked.  The  chancellor  is  liberal  aa 
usual  with  his  edicts,  but  few  obey  them.  Unless  the  queen 
speedily  come  to  a  rupture  with  the  Guises,  formidable  con- 
vulsions will  again  break  out."* 

The  ashes  of  the  volcano  of  human  depravity  were  fall- 
ing everywhere.  An  eruption  was  expected.  "The  republic 
is  perishing,"  wrote  the  Chancellor  de  rH6i)ital  to  Presi- 
•  lent  de  Thou,  "while  we  abandon  ourselves  to  sensual 
enjoyments.  Luxury,  like  a  torrent,  has  entered  the  pal- 
aces of  the  great  and  the  cottages  of  the  humble ;  all  are 
flooded  with  it.  To  me  it  is  a  token  of  cruel  wars  and  a 
future  slavery.  Time  was  when  virtue  consisted  in  repress- 
ing the  passions ;  now  we  have  the  baseness  to  admire  the 
man  who  is  their  blindest  slave.  To  whom  shall  we  confide 
the  public  interests?  Are  not  all  hearts  poisoned?  The 
corrupted  citizen  dreads  fatigue  and  danger ;  instead  of 
defending  his  country,  he  prefers  dishonourable  repose  to 
immortal  glory."  One  reference  was  to  Conde,  still  at 
V'alery. 

It  was  well  for  the  Huguenots  that  Catherine  had  already 
secured  the  full  crowning  of  her  son  Charles.  It  helped 
to  save  Conde  from  being  lured  into  the  desertion  of  his 
party  by  the  hope  of  the  regency.  An  old  law  of  Charles 
the  Wise  fixed  the  majority  of  a  young  king  at  fourteen 
years,  but  did  not  determine  whether  it  was  the  beginning 
or  the  close  of  the  fourteenth  year.  On  that  ground  the 
chancellor  advised  Catherine  to  declare  her  son  qualified  to 
reign. 

The  name  of  Charles  IX.  might  have  become  an  honour 
to  royalty  had  it  not  been  for  his  education.  He  had  been 
endowed  with  an  active  mind  and  a  kindly  heart ;  but  his 
home  was  a  scene  of  deception,  intrigue  and  vice.     HLj 

*  To  Bullinger,  19lh  July  and  30th  September,  1563. 
Vol.  I.— 32 


374  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

mother  went  from  her  prayers  to  encourage  the  most  ab- 
horrent pleasures.  She  early  made  him  familiar  with 
cruelty.  He  amused  himself  by  striking  off  the  heads  of 
animals  at  a  blow.  She  infused  into  him  the  inclinations 
of  a  butcher,  so  that  he  might  in  time  contract  those  of  an 
executioner.  At  almost  every  scafibld  or  stake  in  Paris 
she  pointed  out  to  him  the  glory  of  hanging  or  burning 
heretics. 

Yet  he  had  his  shop  in  the  palace,  where  his  hammer 
rang  upon  the  anvil  as  he  made  locks  and  horse-shoes.  He 
would  haste  from  the  table  to  engage  in  the  chase,  and 
thence  return  to  work  at  his  forge.  He  hated  the  house, 
calling  it  the  grave  of  the  living.  A  moral  education  might 
have  made  him  a  rival  of  Peter  the  Great  in  his  promotion 
of  the  useful  arts.  But  his  mother  Avas  not  his  only  bad 
teacher.  She  had  brought  from  Italy  Albert  Gondi,  whom 
Brantome  describes  as  "  cunning,  cautious,  corrupt,  lying,  a 
great  dissembler,  swearing  and  denying  God  like  a  porter." 
This  man,  known  in  history  as  Marshal  de  Retz,  taught 
Charles  to  vent  his  rage  in  terrible  oaths  and  blasphemies, 
"perverted  him  in  every  possible  way,  and  made  him  forget 
the  wholesome  instructions  of  the  excellent  Cipierre."  The 
word  "excellent"  was  quite  ironical,  for  this  man  "  indulged 
in  an  oath  sometimes,  but  it  was  as  a  cavalier,  not  like 
Gondi,  who  blasphemed  like  a  common  catchpole  when  he 
seizes  a  poor  wretch  by  tlie  collar."  The  latter  "  was  the 
greatest  blasphemer  in  cold  blood  that  was  ever  heard.  .  .  . 
And  so  the  king  learned  this  vice,  thinking  it  an  elegance 
rather  than  a  sin.  Therefore  he  had  no  difficulty  in  break- 
ing his  faith  whenever  it  came  into  his  head."  Even 
Brantome  knew  that  a  man's  word  and  pledges  are  only 
weakened  by  profanity.* 

Rough  and  sometimes  brutal  in  temper,  blunt  in  manner, 

*  Brantome,  Vie  de  lloi  Charles  IX. ;  Varillas. 


UNDER    A    CLOUD,  375 

coar.se  in  .si)ecch  and  suldur-like  in  his  eloquence,  yet 
Charles  had  a  certain  rude  generosity,  and  he  could  appre- 
ciate the  integrity  and  virtue  of  others  when  he  needed 
them.  Hence  good  men  had  great  hopes  of  him.  The 
chancellor  trusted  that  he  might  curb  his  turbulent  nobles, 
but  said  to  Catherine,  "  You  must  expect  your  authority  to 
diminish  rather  than  increase."  "  I  will  take  care  of  that," 
was  her  thought ;  "  enough  that  it  gives  me  an  excuse  for 
not  making  Conde  lieutenant-general."  The  ceremony  of 
declaring  Charles  in  his  majority  took  place  at  Kouen, 
August  17th,  1563,  when  Catherine  bent  her  knee  at  the 
foot  of  the  throne  and  put  in  his  hands  all  the  royal  power. 
He  embraced  her,  saying,  "I  shall  still  want  your  counsels. 
You  will  share  with  me  in  the  government  as  much,  if  not 
more,  than  ever."     And  indeed  she  did. 

Calvin,  in  his  "obscure  corner"  at  Geneva,  uttered  the 
general  Protestant  sentiment  in  regard  to  this  business: 
"  The  queen  is  straining  every  nerve  to  have  the  majority 
of  her  son  j)ronounced,  though  he  has  scarcely  completed 
his  thirteenth  year.  He  has  himself,  however,  proclaimed 
it  in  the  parliament  of  Rouen."  The  six  other  parliaments 
of  France,  and  especially  that  of  Paris,  hesitated  to  take 
such  a  bold  step.  .  .  .  "The  chancellor,  who  was  our  friend, 
begins  to  recover  from  his  timidity  and  take  heart.  .  .  .  All 
the  intrigues  of  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  to  his  great  dis- 
grace, will  come  to  nothing.  The  king  is  nominally  major, 
but  is  really  under  the  will  of  another,  and  that,  too,  almost 
like  a  slave.  He  would  not  be  unfavourable  to  us  if  he 
durst  express  an  opinion.  .  .  .  Clood  men  are  afraid  that 
the  queen-mother,  unless  she  be  bridled,"  will  lend  her  aid 
to  the  Papal  and  Savoy  i'action,  and  "  destroy  entirely  this 
city."  Let  the  Swiss  league  with  us  "  in  defending  the 
French  churches  and  their  liberties.  It  will  j)romote  their 
interests  to  have  the  king  bound  down  not  to  abjure  the 


376  ADMIRAL,    COLIGXY. 

cause  of  protecting  religion."  Still  later,  in  one  of  his  very 
last  letters,  Calvin  wrote  sadly :  "  The  king  has  gone  to 
Lorraine  on  a  secret  journey.  No  doubt  he  will  sell  him- 
self to  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine."  *  History  removes  the 
doubt  and  gives  us  the  bargain.     It  was  the  price  of  blood. 

Like  court,  like  realm  ;  in  each,  the  Protestants  were  at 
the  mercy  of  an  opposing  tide.  The  case  of  the  good 
Duchess  of  Ferrara  may  be  a  sufficient  illustration  of  the 
better  side  of  Huguenot  affairs.  She  and  her  ministers  had 
joined  with  Calvin  in  denouncing  the  military  spirit,  and 
this  brought  her  favour  at  court,  but  deprived  her  of  proper 
respect  from  Conde  and  most  of  his  party.  She  threw  her 
doors  open  to  Romanist  as  well  as  Huguenot  refugees,  and 
was  not  insulted  to  hear  her  castle  called  "God's  hostelry." 
She  hoped  to  do  some  good  at  court,  and  while  there  she 
and  her  friends  drew  the  notice  of  the  Spanish  Chauton- 
nay,  who  wrote  to  his  master :  "  They  do  little  else  here 
than  preach  sermons  and  sing  psalms.  Daily  prayers  are 
said  in  the  apartments  of  the  Prince  of  Conde,  with  the 
help  of  all  who  have  the  will  to  go  there."  "  She  has  left ; 
a  very  notable  good." 

She  tells  us  why  she  left  the  court.  At  Fontainebleau 
"  I  remained  a  whole  month.  The  reason  of  my  leaving 
before  the  king  was  that  I  was  forbidden  to  have  preaching 
there,  as  I  had  done  for  some  days.  Not  only  iu  the  house 
of  the  king  was  this  refused  me,  but  also  iu  one  which  I 
bought  in  the  village  and  dedicated  to  that  purpose,  leaving 
it  for  others  to  use  when  I  was  absent  from  court.f     What 

*  To  Bullinger,  9th  September,  2d  December,  1563;  6th  April,  1564. 

t  "  You  have  shown  by  your  decision  that  a  residence  at  Paris  was 
very  little  to  your  taste,"  wrote  Calvin.  "True,  it  would  have  been 
very  desirable  for  you  to  remain  there,  for  the  relief  of  the  poor 
churches,  but  I  am  not  surprised  that  you  seek  a  happier  manner  of 
life." 


TENDER    A    CLOUD.  377 

grii'vcs  ine  ino.st,  Is  tluit  tlii.-*  lius  Uikcii  j)la('e  tit  tlio  solifita- 
tion  of  a  man  and  his  wife  who  are  communicants,  and  who 
have  their  [Protestant]  ministers.  The  Admiral  and  his 
wife  did  not  arrive  until  the  day  that  I  departed.  As  to 
having  preaching,  they  were  not  able  to  do  more  than  I  did, 
and  they  left  a  week  afterward.  They  and  their  bn^ther, 
the  cardinal,  came  to  this  place  [Montargis]  to  tell  me  of  it 
all.  ...  It  is  long  since  I  began  the  work  among  my  sub- 
jects, and  I  am  now  striving  to  complete  it,  if  it  shall  please 
God.  I  wish  to  administer  justice  and  i)rovide  daily  for 
the  poor,  whether  they  be  dwellers  here  or  sojourners  and 
travellers ;  as  well  as  to  watch  over  my  own  household  of 
faitii,  so  that  no  vices  nor  scandals  nuiy  arise.  .  .  . 

"  De  Collonges  (Francis  Morel)  has  all  along  had  the 
entire  charge  of  the  church  here,  and  he  knows,  before  God, 
that  I  have  assisted  him  in  what  he  has  required.  From  the 
first,  when  he  demanded  of  me  that  he  should  be  present  at 
the  consistory,*  I  granted  it  to  him,  and  he  chose  elders  as 
seemed  good  to  him.  When  he  told  me  that  it  was  not 
right  that  women  should  be  present  at  it,  nor  that  I  should 
be  there,  although  1  knew  that  the  (^ueen  of  Navarre, 
madame  the  Admiral's  wife  and  JNIadamc  de  Roye  took 
their  place  there  in  their  t)wn  houses,  yet  I  did  not  insist 
upon  going  thither.  I  have  not  cea.sed  to  exhort  my  people 
to  attend,  and  there  to  serve  God  as  he  may  teach  them, 
except  in  one  case,  that  of  a  young  domestic  who  I  feared 
might  commit  some  insolent  act;  as  indeed  he  did,  for  he 
went  into  the  kitchen  and  struck  an  old  man  who  was  in 
bad  Iiealtli,  and  who  had  not  adopted  the  Reformed  re- 
ligon."  She  was  not  a  bigot,  nor  one  who  sought  to  rule. 
"  1  do  not  know  that  those  of  the  city  molest  anybody. 

"  I  receive  lu-l])  and  counsel  from  the  admiral,  next  to  the 

*  Till'  reffiTin-e  scorns  to  lie  to  a  session  of  tlio  imstor  and  ililers  lor 
giving  instriietioii  to  tliosc  in  niadanie's  service. 

32  -' 


378  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

help  and  counsel  of  God,  for  tlie  repression  of  scandals  and 
vices.  It  is  manifest  that  among  his  subjects  (at  Chatillon) 
religion  thrives  and  increases,  although  some  there  oppose 
it,  as  in  this  place.  The  greater  part  of  his  subjects  are  in 
my  bailiwick,  and  he  has  established  preaching  among 
them,  which  had  not  been  done  before,  except  at  Bonny. 
Most  of  the  members  of  my  household  whom  I  employ  are 
of  the  Reformed  religion  and  communicants.  A  few  are 
not,  but  I  hope  that  God  will  draw  them  to  himself.  Yet 
some  of  the  Reformed  have  ill-treated  them,  driving  them 
away  from  banquets  and  festivals ;  and  I  have  allowed 
them  to  go  home  myself,  remaining  without  any  of  my 
waiting-women — a  thing  not  usual  with  persons  of  my 
quality.  ...  I  esteem  both  mine  and  myself  honoured  by 
such  treatment.  .  .  .  God  give  me  grace  to  serve  him 
purely  and  sincerely  as  you  desire. 

"As  to  what  I  have  heard  charged  upon  the  ministers 
and  children  of  God,  I  have  not  held  my  peace,  but  have 
taken  upon  me  to  protect  them  with  more  care  than  myself. 
There  are  those  who  endeavour  to  banish  them  from  this 
kingdom,  and  to  their  designs  one  ought  not  to  yield."* 
We  are  glad  that  her  request  "  to  burn  this  letter"  was  not 
fulfilled.  It  shows  us  her  love  for  "  the  preach,"  her  trials, 
her  reproaches,  and  the  strifes  which  religious  differences 
carried  into  her  house  and  into  that  of  her  friend  the  ad- 
miral. Peace  was  not  the  ])rivilege  of  any  one  in  that  age, 
noble  or  royal. 

The  admiral  had  reason  to  watch  his  uncle  Montmo- 
rency. This  last  of  the  Triumvirs  grew  wrathy  because 
the  treaty  of  Amboise  was  not  rigorously  applied  to  the 
Huguenots.  Wherever  the  Protestants  had  the  majority, 
they  extended  the  liberty  of  the  edict,  and  held  their  meet- 

*  Memorials  of  Duchess  Retire;  Calvin's  Letters;  Lettre  de  Clian- 
tonai ;  Mem.  de  Cond6. 


UNDER    A    CLOUD.  379 

iiigs  for  the  wurship  of  God.  They  went  fartlier ;  they 
began  to  form  secret  unions,  so  that  they  might  be  ready 
for  def(-'n.sive  war  at  the  call  of  their  chieftains.  Tiiey  had 
their  rallying  signs,  their  watchwords  and  their  plans  of 
campaign.  In  other  places,  where  they  were  the  weaker 
])arty,  they  sought  to  enjoy  all  that  the  law  allowed  them. 
Imagine  about  seventy-five  thousand  scattered  Huguenots 
walking  several  leagues  to  celebrate  their  worship  in  a 
])rivileged  town!  All  this  inflamed  the  soul  of  the  gray- 
headed  ^Montmorency,  who  was  the  chief  author  of  the 
treaty.  At  his  house  often  gathered' men  who  were  ever 
ready  to  act  upon  any  hint  he  gave  them,  and  carry  out 
any  measures  he  proposed. 

"  The  longer  we  have  peace  the  stronger  will  the  Hugue- 
nots become,  and  they  will  alarm  the  queen  into  their 
measures,"  said  the  Pa})al  chief.  "  Coligny  and  the  chan- 
cellor will  have  their  own  way,  as  they  would  have  had 
before  if  our  trio  had  not  driven  them  from  court.  Cathe- 
rine will  join  herself  to  them  as  soon  as  they  have  the 
majority.  AVar  is  the  only  remedy.  Let  it  come — I  care 
not  how  soon." 

"  We  understand,"  said  the  luurinurcrs ;  and  they  laid 
their  plot.  About  three  hundred  leading  Protestants  were 
marked  out  for  destruction.  Everything  was  arranged  for 
a  massacre.  Conspirators  were  to  be  posted  throughout 
Paris,  to  excite  the  Romanists  and  direct  them  in  the  work 
of  plunder  and  murder.  Montmorency  was  to  give  the 
order  at  his  own  house.  But  Jean  d'Albrct,  or  Coligny, 
happily  discovered  the  plan,  and  informed  the  queen.  For 
once,  at  least,  she  must  have  the  credit  of  preventing  a 
slaughter  with  an  earnestness  that  alarmed  the  most  des- 
perate. Confused  and  in  fear,  ^Montmorency  retired  to 
Chantilly  over  a  path  of  di.^grace  well  trodden  before,  and 
some  of  his  most  furious  accomplices  were  hanged  at  their 


380  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

owu  windows,  witlujut  any  form  of  trial ;  the  others  were 
allowed  to  escape.* 

If  these  things  were  attempted  at  the  capital,  what  might 
not  be  expected  in  the  provinces?  AVherever  the  Roman- 
ists were  most  numerous,  they  piievented  the  Huguenots 
from  assembling  in  their  one  privileged  mansion  or  town. 
The  clergy  entered  into  the  crusade,  publishing  abroad  the 
anathemas  of  the  pope,  and  bawling  aloud  in  horror  of 
heresy.  Many  a  devout  Huguenot  was  waylaid  on  his 
tiresome  journey  to  the  place  where  he  could  sing  psalms 
Avith  his  brethren,  and  his  friends  never  saw  him  return. 
Many  a  house  was  entered,  and  the  worshippers  treated 
with  outrage,  imprisonment  and  murder.  The  Protestants 
were  compelled  to  furnish  bread  for  Papal  masses,  and  give 
money  to  the  priests,  Avhom  they  would  not  dare  to  meet  at 
the  confessional.  It  was  death  for  one  of  them  to  appeal 
to  the  laws.  The  Roman  Catholics  began  to  meet  and  bind 
themselves  together  in  secret  associations  for  the  uprooting 
of  heresy.  They  had  their  password,  their  rallying  signals 
and  their  schemes  of  war.  Out  of  these  grew  the  great 
League  of  a  later  day,  which  filled  the  land  with  woe  from 
the  time  of  the  awful  St.  Bartholomew  to  the  joyful  Edict 
of  Nantes. 

The  treaty  of  Amboise  was  not  worthy  the  name  of  a 
peace;  it  was  a  mere  suspension  of  arms.  It  simply  meant 
that  the  Romanists  were  to  be  let  alone,  take  breath,  refresh 
their  strength  and  then  overwhelm  the  Huguenots.  In  the 
mean  time  there  was  a  fearful  struggle  of  man  against  man, 
house  against  house,  town  against  town,  party  against  party. 
A  Guise  led  the  Burgundian  nobles  to  declare  that  they 
could  no  more  endure  two  religions  in  France  than  heaven 

*  Mi'mnires  de  Vieillevillc,  a  Ronianist  of  Catlierine's  party,  who 
devotes  two  diapters  to  tlie  above  nffair.  Some,  however,  say  that 
Montmorency  was  to  be  one  of  the  victims,  along  with  De  I'Hopital. 


UNDER   A    CLOUD.  381 

could  bt'ur  two  suns.  One  religious  iJUity  must  conquer  the 
other.  Each  was  resolved  not  to  be  conquered.  The  forces 
of  two  vast  armies  were  mingling  together,  engaging  in 
lesser  skirmishes  and  waiting  for  the  day  and  the  place  of 
battle.  Catherine  may  have  been  sincere  in  wishing  peace 
to  be  preserved.  "The  government  has  no  desire  to  break 
the  edict,  for  it  would  create  a  disturbance,"  writes  Hugh 
I^anguet,  "as  our  churches  are  more  crowded  than  they, 
have  ever  been."  And  still  she  said  to  St.  Croix,  "When- 
ever circumstances  permit,  I  will  do  whatever  the  pope 
desires." 

Not  to  follow  Boza  and  De  Thou*  in  their  extended 
review  of  the  persecutions  endured  by  the  Protestants  after 
the  treaty,  nor  to  draw  horrors  from  the  records  of  martyr- 
ology,  we  may  have  some  idea  of  their  desperate  condition 
from  the  wor(ls  of  Pasquier,  who  was  no  friend  to  them  : 
"  The  Huguenots  have  lost  more  by  edicts  in  time  of  peace 
than  by  force  in  time  of  war."  It  would  rack  the  gloomiest 
imagination  to  conceive  of  all  the  modes  of  torture  and 
death  ;  it  would  make  our  pages  disgusting,  and  even  ob- 
scene, to  describe  them.  "Let  them  be  forgotten,"  is  the 
demand.  Let  it  not  be  forgotten  tliat  such  endurances 
were  part  of  the  price  paid  for  our  civil  and  religious 
liberty. 

It  is  pleasant,  after  hard  search,  to  find  one  little  green 
isle  even  in  tlie  glacier  of  woe.  The  Huguenots  of  Gap 
were  ordered  to  deliver  uji  their  arms.  They  trembled.  It 
was  an  old  trick.  But  tlie  good  officer,  Jacques  Pliilip- 
peaux,  protected  them  by  the  law  which  wrested  from  thorn 
their  means  of  self-defence,  granted  them   liberty  of  con- 

*  One  may  l)e  asfonislied  to  find  tliat  tlio  perseculioiis  and  inarlyr- 
doms  of  tlie  years*  ir)r)'2-lo03  fill  fo  lar<;e  a  .space  in  the  volumes  of 
Bcza,  De  Thou,  De  Serrcf*  and  ("rcspin ;  a.s  well  as  in  the  Memoirea 
of  Montluc,  Tavanncs,  Conde,  La  Noue  and  a  score  of  others. 


382  ADMIRAL   COLliQNY. 

science,  and  ulluwcd  them  to  bury  their  dead  in  the  general 
cemetery,  with  their  own  services,  until  another  place  could 
be  provided.     It  was  a  rare  instance  of  just  rule. 

By  this  time  Coligny  had  learned  that  human  nature 
could  not  be  trusted,  especially  if  ingrained  with  popery. 
He  had  spies  about  himself;  he  sent  spies  to  watch  his  foes. 
He  had  good,  active  agents  at  the  council  of  Trent  to  keep 
their  eyes  upon  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  whom  we  have 
missed  for  months.  The  council  had  been  holding  its  ses- 
sions for  almost  twenty  years,  and,  with  the  pompous  car- 
dinal to  help  wind  up  its  affairs,  some  big  woe  might  be 
expected  upon  France.  To  make  sure  all  its  decisions,  one 
crowning  dogma  was  jiresented  to  the  faith  of  Christendom : 
it  was  that  the  pope  was  infallible — the  sovereign  pastor  of 
the  Church.  That  Frenchmen  might  all  be  known  as  his 
sheep,  a  swarm  of  legates  from  all  Romish  countries  came 
pouring  into  France,  to  show  the  king  how  to  purify  the 
fold.  One  step  was,  that  he  should  give  them  a  private 
hearing  at  Fontainebleau :  this  was  granted  by  him  and 
his  mother.  Another  was,  that  he  and  his  clergy  should 
accept  the  doctrines  of  the  council  of  Trent :  Catherine  was 
not  ready  for  this,  as  it  was  not  yet  her  political  interest. 
A  third  was,  that  the  heretics  should  be  punished  without 
mercy :  this  must  be  calmly  considered,  as  the  Huguenots 
were  not  willing  to  be  exterminated.  A  fourth  was,  that 
the  authors  of  the  death  of  Guise  should  be  condemned  as 
guilty  of  high  treason :  this  was  not  easy,  for,  if  the  infal- 
lible pope  could  even  point  out  the  authors,  they  must  first 
be  tried  in  their  own  country.  The  legates  departed  in  their 
coaches,  whispering  their  fears  of  Catherine's  lukewarmness 
in  "  the  Italian  religion."  She  had  seemed  to  be  afraid  of 
the  great  Protestant  power  in  her  realm.  The  Papal  sheep 
were  not  yet  to  be  fattened  on  the  blood  of  her  subjects,  so 
long  as  Coligny  and  the  chancellor  held  her  in  check. 


UNDER    A    CLOUD.  383 

"  Ha !  monsieur,"  said  the  chancellor  to  Lorraine,  in  one 
of  the  loud  debates,  "  have  you  returned  to  trouble  us  with 
these  foreign  decrees?" 

"  I  am  not  come  to  trouble  you,''  was  the  rough  reply, 
"  rascal  as  you  are,  but  to  keep  you  from  troubling  the 
kingdom.  You,  who  were  put  by  me  where  you  are,  do 
you  presume  to  talk  about  my  troubling  youf  I  will  take 
care  how  you  meddle  again  with  such  matters." 

The  chancellor  devoured  the  insult  in  silence.  On  an- 
other day  he  had  his  satisfaction,  when  Lorraine  said  to 
him,  "  No  one  can  tell  to  what  religion  you  belong.  You 
have  only  one  religion  that  I  know  of,  and  that  is  to  injure 
me  and  all  my  house.  In  this  you  are  ungrateful  to  those 
who  have  made  you  what  you  are." 

"  Granting  that  you  made  me  what  I  am,"  replied  De 
I'Hopital  coolly,  "  was  it  tiie  expectation  of  your  eminence 
that  I  should  sacrifice  the  interests  of  the  king  and  king- 
dom in  showing  my  gratitude  to  you  ?"  A  hard  blow  fur 
the  cardinal,  adds  the  pope's  legate.* 

Coligny  listened  to  the  celebrated  lawyer  Charles  du 
Moulin  as  he  read  the  manuscript  of  a  memoir  on  the 
council  of  Trent.  "I  prove,"  said  the  advocate,  "that  the 
council  did  not  represent  the  whole  Church ;  that  it  was 
altogether  a  popish  caucus ;  that  it  was  null  and  vicious  in 
all  its  part* ;  that  it  contradicts  former  decrees  and  sets 
forth  absurdities  for  our  faith  ;  that  it  will  take  the  jewels 
out  of  the  French  crown  and  destroy  the  liberties  of  the 
French  Church."  f 

"Publish  the  book,"  said  Coligny,  with  an  unusual  eager- 
ness of  hope,  for  Du  Moulin  was  not  a  Protestant.  "It 
breaks  down  the  walls  which  Rome  is  building  around  us." 

*  L'Etoile,  Memoires. 

t  The  treatise  is  in  the  Mem.  de  Coiule.  Calvin  wrote  a  book  (jnite 
the  same  purpose,  "  Aetsof  the  Council  of  Trent,  with  the  Antidule." 


384  ADMIRAL   COLIGNY. 

The  volume,  damp  from  the  press,  was  soon  in  the  hand's 
of  the  Sorbounists,  who  read  it  with  amazement  and  ven- 
geance. 

One  morning  the  author  was  going  up  the  steps  of  the 
Palace  of  Justice,  when  an  officer  arrested  him.  Other 
lawyers  were  indignant  at  such  treatment  of  an  eminent 
man,  and  they  excited  their  clerks  to  rescue  him.  A  tu- 
mult was  likely  to  be  raised.  The  archers  hurried  their 
prisoner  to  the  Conciergerie,  near  at  hand,  and  locked  him 
in  one  of  the  cells. 

"  This  touches  me,"  said  Coligny,  on  hearing  of  the  arrest. 
"  I  make  the  case  my  own,  for  I  advised  the  publication." 
He  hastened  to  the  queen,  showed  the  probable  results  of 
such  injustice,  and  obtained  an  order  for  the  release  of  his 
friend.  Shortly  after,  Du  Moulin  drew  up  a  most  violent 
paper  against  the  Protestants.  "  The  chief  butler  did  not 
remember  Joseph,  but  forgot  him." 


END   OF   VOLUME   I. 


Jd  4  o  1 

THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA! 

LOS  ANGELES 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


APRS  - 


mr 


JAN  2  3  19S1 

MAR  1  5  1961 

DEC  9     ^9^^i 

'  Ot^^  6 15169 


REC'D  LD. 


Z  FEBp2,8198t 


i!SCHARGE-Ulto 

KQV  Sfln 

.NOV     6@S 


APR  0  2 


m\ 


Form  L-9 

25  ni -2, '43  (5203) 


JUL 
I 

1982 


5  TOT! 


fi 


3    1 


'||i:i|ii!ii|iii|M|i|iiiii|ii 
58   00731 


854 


lllllin°innn,'li'n^4;;j'^,LLIBRARY^^^ 


AA    000  843  016    7 


